


Timeline

by xXBeckyFoo



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: F/M, Post-Season/Series 03, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tres Geckos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 07:30:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8615116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXBeckyFoo/pseuds/xXBeckyFoo
Summary: That look was in Seth's eyes again, the one that made Kate feel like everything in life had led them to this moment. To each other.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, I'm STILL so shook.  
> How does life go on when Sethkate has risen so high, I think they're the sun?

Crossing into hell had not hurt. Not in any way she thought it would (not in anyway she had been told by her preacher father and read in the sacred passages of the righteous bible). Kate remembered screaming as she walked through the gate, but she screamed for what she was leaving behind.

That was what hurt the most, knowing that on the other side of those gates Scott and Seth were meeting their end, too.

Kate held her breath, trying to shake out the thought as she walked the dirt path of hell.

She assumed demons would be waiting for her, like the ones she saved Scott from, like the ones Amaru had unleashed to create havoc for her in the realm of light.

Instead, they came in the form of someone a piece of her mangled, disfigured heart recognized and longed to see.

“Kate?” Richie murmured her name as he always had, soft, careful, and with a hint of remorse.

She knelt before him, resting a hand on the side of his face, meeting his blue eyes with more affection than she thought she would ever feel for him again.

“I was hoping I'd find you,” she told him, sincerity wrapping the words.

Richie managed a crooked grin, one that always made Kate want to smile back. She resisted the reflex, he knew, so he said, “When you told me to burn in hell, I didn't expect to see you here, too.”

For a brief moment, she looked away from him, taking in the dry, red land all around them. Her daddy used to say hell was fire and pain, but there was nothing in the underworld.

Maybe that was hell: being lost in the nothingness.

“I was angry,” Kate muttered, blinking back down at him. “I was dying for nothing, Richie.”

“I tried—”

“I know,” she interrupted him before all his regret and failed wants left his dried lips. “I saw it in your soul when Amaru touched you. And I know you weren't planning to quit to save me from her.”

Richie closed his eyes, sighing as he leaned further into her palm. “Now we're both here.”

“She can go back. You can  _ both _ go back.”

Kate barely heard Carlos’ voice when Richie found his strength again, pushing her behind himself as he lunged to his feet, baring his teeth.

Carlos raised a brow, unimpressed.

“Kate,” he called instead, a smirk tugging at his mouth, “I love what you've done with your hair.”

“Don't,” Kate grabbed Richie’s right elbow, trying to keep him from attacking Carlos. She felt the hate for him stir in her chest, but she pushed it down to say, “We need him.”

Richie turned his head in an angle, frowning at her.

_ Yeah _ , she wanted to say, _ I know he killed me. _

But Kate knew all about the deal Carlos had cut with the devil herself. She knew he was a part of Xibalba.

“If you two ever want to see Seth again, I suggest you get your shit together now,” Carlos said as he casually adjusted his jacket.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” Richie hissed back. “I'm tired of your fucking riddles, Carlito.”

“Then answer the question, Dick!”

“What fucking question?”

Kate sunk her nails into Richie’s skin. Even though he was a culebra now, with his super strength and endurance, he still winced and frowned at her.

“Amaru,” Kate interjected past their bickering. “She gained her body back by consuming the culebra lords. They're inside of her. Just as she was inside of them.”

Richie’s blue eyes lit up now, understanding dawning on him. “ _ They _ can kill her.”

“Now they can,” Carlos amended. “She couldn't really die when little Miss Kate was on the other side, too.”

Richie bared his teeth again, blue eyes flickering yellow. “Are you telling me this is some fucking Harry Potter shit?” At Kate’s confusion, he said, “You crossed over to the underworld as a human, Kate. Technically you're  _ dead _ . You killed the part of you that was connected to Amaru. So if—”

“If we go back, she can die. For good.”

“Avada Kedavra, bitches,” Carlos grinned.

Her heartbeat kicked up in pace. As her hands tingled from the rush now licking up her spine, Kate swallowed the knot in her throat. “How?” she demanded. “How do we get back?”

“Ah,” Carlos had smug satisfaction in his dark eyes. “Now that’s the right question, Katie-Cakes. How’s night broken?”

“Light,” Richie and Kate both answered, looking at one another for a brief second.

_ There is good in you, Kate. _

They both remembered that fleeting moment in the back of her RV.

He saw her light even then.

“Darkness has literally entered your body, but your soul still holds its light,” Carlos said. “You can leave this place because you don't belong in it.”

As his words rung in her eardrums, Kate could see a silver glimmer yards down from where she stood.

“Why are you helping us?” she asked, looking away from the light to let her distrust toward Carlos flare.

“Because if Amaru doesn't die, all culebras will... _ Santanico _ will.”

Kate reached for Richie’s hand, holding tight. He looked down at their intertwined fingers, but she kept her focus on Carlos. “Her name is Kisa,” she corrected him, “and you're still an asshole.”

Then she ran—ran with Richie, ran toward that glimmer, back to Scott, and back to Seth.

 

**X**

 

Kate walked back to civilization, back to a world that was ignorant to what existed in the shadows of the night.

She had no idea how many days and nights she spent on the long, lonely road, putting distance between her and that ghost town (the gates of hell), until she was back at the psychiatric facility where she lost the first battle against Amaru.

A lick of fear (or guilt, or  _ both _ ) raced up her spine at the mess Amaru left behind, forcing the tears to stay behind her burning eyes.

She found her old room, her blood still on the wall, spelling out the name of the devil to warn others to stay away (away from _her_ ), and sat at the edge of the twin-sized bed.

Her eardrums filled with silence.

Then the burst of all the souls she (Amaru) took, pierced the walls, rattling them.

Kate walked through to the underworld as her punishment, as her form of redemption, but made it back out. She pulled Richie from hell, killed Amaru, closed the gates, but justice had yet to be served.

She was  _ still _ guilty.

So she allowed the voices in, she allowed them to torment her, to shriek at high levels, taking all the sanity she had left, all the will she had left, and closed her eyes.

She saw them there:

The psychologist.

Manola.

Innocent culebras.

Guilty culebras

That boy in the chapel.

Those families in Shady Glenn.

Ximena.

Richie.

All the demons.

It was not only Amaru’s kills that filled the cold, empty walls of the abandoned psychiatric ward. It was her own, too.

Daddy.

Rafa.

Jessica.

The drifter.

_ That girl is long gone. _

Kate had told Seth that and meant it.

The preacher’s daughter had died when her momma had. That was the truth. The time following the funeral and before the Geckos had been limbo; it was a moment of time where Kate pretended she could hold her family together, that she could still be that God-fearing, righteous angel the world saw when they looked at her pretty, young, innocent face.

Then the shadows came.

She had light, but her heart was spotted with darkness. Even before Amaru.

So the voices arrived and she drowned in them.

Her penance was to never forget them.

 

**X**

 

“Why are you here?” Kate asked the shadows that had been following her for two days.

She turned from the hall that led to her room to the main control center, the yellow lights of the psych ward flickering overhead, buzzing.

She knew they were outside the walls, roaming them (scouting the perimeter), assuring there were no lingering monsters and threats that could harm her.

Kate almost heard Amaru laugh.

The monsters weren't outside the walls. They were  _ inside _ Kate’s head.

Against the cracked, dirty tiled floor, the sound of heels echoed throughout the corridor. From the dark appeared Kisa, one of her loyal followers only three steps behind.

“You can sense us,” she pointed out, understanding settling in her dark, brown eyes. “Amaru could sense all of her demons—culebras, too, because we come from her underworld.”

Kate pressed her lips into a tight line, rolling her shoulders back, trying to shake off the reminder.

“Why are you here?” she questioned again.

“I'm worried about you,” Kisa did not miss a beat. Kate could see the truth behind her words in the small distance between them. “You've been locked up in here for a month.”

It felt like an hour.

It felt like a lifetime .

“I'm fine,” Kate said, the lie ringing loud. She flinched at it, but managed to add, “I deserve to be here. I can't hurt anyone else from here.”

Kisa let out a low, frustrated breath, but those understanding eyes of hers flashed with sympathy (with a form of affection that almost made Kate walk up to her to uncover).

“Come with me,” she said. “Come with me to somewhere new, somewhere we don't have to think of what Amaru took from us.”

Kate’s eyes filled with tears. A tiny piece of her mangled heart longed for the day that could be true, but the bigger, scarred part felt the cruel sting of guilt. She knew what ( _ who _ ) Kisa had lost.

Kisa might have said there was nothing to forgive, but Kate did not forgive herself.

“I know why you did it now,” Kate muttered. “Why you lured Richie to the Twister, dragging us along. I hated you for so long... I thought you were selfish and cruel, but you were Malvado’s prisoner for centuries, and when your chance for freedom came, you took it. I can't hate you for that. Not after Amaru. Not after I was willing to take a bullet to the head to be free.”

“You're still forgiveness,” Kisa said with a soft laugh. “Carlos said your light got you out of the underworld.”

Tears rolled down Kate’s cheeks. “I don't see a light anymore.”

Kisa crossed the distance. Just as she had done after Amaru was sent back to hell, she put her arms around Kate.

This time Kate clung on, too.

“I can't go with you,” she cried into Kisa’s shoulder, the latter stroking her hair in a comforting motion Kate had all but forgotten could exist from another person (a person who had not just finished torturing her to get the devil out). “Everything’s changed now.”

“ _ Lo  s é _ ,” said Kisa. “Amaru made you feel abandoned, Kate, but you're not. You have Scott. You have me. And you have...”

Kate appreciated the pause.

“Here,” Kisa pulled back, reaching into the pocket of her tight, leather pants to bring out a cell phone. “I'm a phone call away if you need me.”

More tears fell from Kate’s eyes.

Kisa wiped them away.

 

**X**

 

A cellphone and a culebra were what Kisa left behind for Kate.

Danny.

“You don't have to stay here,” Kate told him from the other end of the cold, dark room. He sat by the entrance, his back resting on the wall as he watched her stare up at the ceiling, counting names under her breath.

The sight brought waves of memories from long, hot Mexican nights that seemed a lifetime away now.

“I told Kisa I would,” he said, the tone of his voice suggesting a finality (no room for persuasion otherwise).

“Why?”

Danny looked up from his knees. His eyes flashed yellow, but Kate had not been afraid of it.

“I had a little sister. She was raped by a fighter called Titan. I tried to avenge her, but failed. I couldn't kill Titan and Amaru’s demons got to her.”

Kate shoved her hands beneath her thighs.

“I was Amaru,” she muttered.

“I know,” he said. “And I know you weren't. When Kisa told me where she was going, who she was seeing, I needed to come.”

“I'm not your sister,” Kate told him, no intent of malice in the words. “I'm a monster.”

Danny allowed a silence to fall over them for a long minute. When he straightened out his thoughts (his grief), he said, “Maybe I think I am, too. And maybe that's why I'm here...to prove that we're not.”

 

**X**

 

When sleep won over the insomnia Kate fought to hold on to (to avoid the faces of the people that lost their lives at her hands), she sometimes dreamt of Mexico.

Richie was wrong; it was never a honeymoon.

But in those small, fleeting moments where reality and imagination blurred, it was (it had the potential to be).

The Twister had not happened. Her daddy had not died. Richie nor Scott had been lost. There were no culebras to fear. Heroin did not exist.

It was just her and Seth.

It was just them and their one-bed motels (that neither ever questioned), an open road (hot air blowing through her hair and his eyes on her), Spanish songs on the radio (that she sung at the top of her lungs to and he tried not to grin at), dinner in corner booths (elbows touching as he stole her fries and she sipped his beer), night strolls through  _ mercados  _ (his hand on the small of her back, guiding her, thumb absentmindedly rubbing circles that made her skin tingle), sleepless nights that became routines (silence between them, eyes locked until the sun broke past the window blinds), and mediocre jobs with mediocre scores (but that marked the beginning of their partnership).

In those dreams it was just them.

Kate and Seth.

Bonnie and Clyde.

And it was  _ good _ .

 

**X**

 

Danny made their first visitor his breakfast.

A wanderer entered the psychiatric facility, looking for things to take, walls to destroy, rooms to shoot up in.

“I'm sorry,” Danny said to Kate as he looked up from the body, blood dripping down his chin, fangs retracting. “I still don't know how to control this.”

Kate knew she should have been disgusted and disgruntled at the scene, but instead she let out an exhausted sigh.

“We've been here for how long?”

“Me? Three weeks. You? Almost two months,” he informed.

It felt like an hour.

It felt like a lifetime.

“I think it's time to go,” she whispered.

Danny heard her uncertainty.

He wiped the blood on his mouth and chin with the sleeve of his grey flannel, standing. “What were you trying to find here?”

Kate turned in angle, facing the dark hallway that led back to the room she has spent so long in.

“This is where Amaru first killed through me.” She looked down to her hands. They trembled. “This is where it all first went wrong. I thought... I thought maybe I could make sense of my life now, but all this place has done is drive me crazy.”

Danny tried to reach for her hands, but she pulled them away in time, hiding them behind her back as her green eyes widened in fear.

“You're going backwards,” he said with a sigh of his own, sympathy (pity) in his gaze, “You're trying to find a piece of your old self here, but you're not going to find it. You know who you are now.”

_ That girl is long gone. _

“Who am I, then?” she asked, more to herself than him.

Danny still answered: “A fighter.”

 

**X**

 

Flames were said to cleanse that which was possessed of Xibalba, so Kate set the psychiatric ward on fire.

When she had been admitted after she was found wandering the desert, Kate unwillingly brought with her the queen of hell. Here was where Amaru awoke, tainting every corner with blood and evil. Nothing could ever grow here if it remained that way, carrying the shadows Amaru left behind to destroy anything that got too close.

So Kate watched the red and orange flames light up the building, tearing it down, reducing it to cinders.

Now whatever sprouted from the ashes had a chance to thrive.

 

**X**

 

“Where to now?” Danny asked from the passenger seat of the truck he stole for their journey to nowhere.

“I don't know,” she told him, pulling out the cellphone Kisa had left behind for her (that she took to messaging three times a week). “But I heard of a concert just outside of Houston.”

Danny looked over from the right side mirror, raising a brow. It was the first time he looked at Kate like she was not completely right in the head. “That's code for church service, isn't it?”

She rolled her eyes at him for the hundredth time. Somehow, the whole being possessed by Amaru thing was not as interesting to Danny as her past life as a preacher’s daughter.

“Okay,  _ fine _ ,” he grumbled. “How are we getting in?”

“I know the frontman.”

 

**X**

 

“Santanico gave you a bodyguard?” Scott questioned, brows furrowed as he inspected Danny from the other side of the tour bus. 

Kate pretended to know how to tune a guitar to avoid looking up at her brother. “Her name is Kisa.”

Scott sat beside her, intent on wrapping his fingers around her wrist, but she almost bashed the guitar into his nose when she saw the intention.

He leaned further into the bean-bag chair, strumming his fingers on his knees, acting as if her automatic response did not break his heart.

“You can stay with me,” Scott said. “The band won't mind. Even if they did, you're my  _ sister _ , Kate. You come first.”

“I told you—”

“Everything's changed. Yeah, I know,” he interrupted her, frowning.

Kate gave him a small, sad smile.

It was his turn not to meet her eyes when he whispered, “I just don't want to lose you again.”

She wanted to reach for him, put a hand on his forehead (just like their momma used to do whenever he was sad), but settled on lightly kicking his foot with hers.

Scott looked up at her.

“Fanglorious is great,” she said, forcing the regret out of her smile. “This is where you're supposed to be. And me...I'm trying to find who I am now, where I belong, but that doesn't mean we stop being family.”

He almost returned the smile, if it had not been for Danny and the other bandmates laughing among each other.

“East Los High over there better know you're not up for adoption,” Scott told Kate. “You're  _ my _ sister.”

She laughed— _ really _ laughed.

“I love you, Scott,” Kate said to her brother, meaning it this time just as she had the last time she saw him.

“I love you, too, Kate.”

 

**X**

 

Danny rolled over to his side, squinting at the morning sunlight trying to break in past the thin curtains of the motel room.

“Kate?” he grumbled, intent on asking her to change beds with him, but he instead found hers empty.

He stood, whipping out the same blade he tried to cut down all his enemies with from beneath his pillow.

“It's okay.” The bathroom door opened. “I'm right here.”

Kate walked out, no longer clad in the leather and red boots Amaru had chosen for them. Now she stood there with an emerald lace dress on her body, dark against her pale skin and complimentary with her red hair.

She also had a bag strapped over her left shoulder. When she approached her own bed, she laid it on the mattress, unzipping it. There were guns and bullets and black-leather gloves inside.

“Where'd you get these?” Danny asked.

“Kisa,” was all Kate said without any intention of elaborating.

She took the gloves resting over the bullets, slowly pulling them on.

It felt like second skin.

It felt like a barrier between her and anything she touched, sparing the other end from the evil that Kate still felt tingled on her fingerprints (Amaru might be gone, but she remembered; Kate  _ always _ remembered).

The gloves covered the scars on her wrists (the scars that let Amaru out of her body and into her own). The same scars that made Kate human again, that left her bleeding out on the floor of a cursed chapel until Seth burst through the doors to save her from a fate intent on taking her life.

“Any reason why we need these?”

Kate looked up from her gloves. “Because we need money. Motels and food don't come cheap.”

Danny frowned. “And Kisa couldn't give you money instead of a Thief 101 survival kit?”

“We make our own way,” Kate said. “That's why we're here, isn't it? But if eating people doesn't bother you, and somehow stealing money crosses over your lines of morality, then  _ leave _ . You wouldn't be the first.”

Danny eyes flashed with apprehension at the bite in her words. He had encountered an annoyed-Kate in their time together, but angry (resentful) Kate was not one he had met.

“There's no room for doubt in this,” she told him, deciphering the glint in his eyes. “That's how people die, and I have enough blood on my hands.”

Danny pocketed his blade, reaching for a gun. “What'd you do, Kate? Steal the church offerings in your past life?”

“No,” she said, taking a gun of her own. Her gaze got lost in it for a second (thinking of how Seth should have pulled the trigger on her, how she contemplated doing it herself when Kisa first gave her the guns). She inhaled, rolling her shoulders back, forcing the dark, wicked voices out of her head.

She started pulling the gun apart (only then to put it back together).

“Shit,” Danny laughed, slightly impressed. “Who taught you that?”

“Clyde,” Kate muttered, “just before he left Bonnie at the side of a road.”

 

**X**

 

The first job was not perfect.

“At least it wasn't a complete fuck up,” Danny liked to point out over and over again. “And we both got free food.”

It was a small gas station in the middle of nowhere.

It took Kate two days of casing it to figure out only one man was in charge. He opened and closed the gas station himself, and sat behind the counter the time between that. An average of twenty-seven people passed through a day, but there were three hours of inactivity. That was the perfect window to strike.

Kate got out of the truck (leaving Danny on the passenger seat) and strolled in past the door covered in fliers and ticket-scratchers, her pretty green dress looking more ethereal in the sunlight, and her blood-red hair bouncing past her shoulders.

The man heard the bell ring when she came in, doing a double-take at the new customer. Something in his eyes sent cold shivers up Kate’s spine, the kind she used to get when older men looked at her like a vessel waiting to be corrupted by them. Maybe before she  _ was _ helpless and fragile, easy to take advantage of, but now there was a gun strapped to her body that Kate thought of as a new limb.

If he got too close, he'd be tasting led.

Kate had a red bull and peach rings on the counter, giving him her prettiest (most bewitching) smile when the clerk said, “You here alone, sweetheart?”

“Sure am,” she told him with a hint of southern twang she had not heard from herself in so long.

“Lovely girl like you shouldn't be alone on this side of town,” he continued, eyeing her up and down. “They say monsters come out at night.”

Kate was putting a five dollar bill on the counter when his hand rested over hers, a calloused thumb caressing the skin just above her leather gloves.

That was the first time she wished her hands could still take souls.

“I don't know,” she laughed, her white teeth sparkling with the sunlight pouring in, “There really can't be monsters out there.”

“Oh?” the clerk grinned back. “Why's that, sugar?”

“Because,” Kate’s eyes narrowed, “the monster is in here.”

Kate had cased the gas station and the pathetic man for two days to know he did not keep a gun at arm’s length. That was what made her confident enough to pull out hers, pointing it to his head as she demanded the money inside his cash register.

What she had not counted on was for him to lunge at her.

Her hands shook and she lost her gun. He was on her, wrapping his fingers around her throat, pounding her back into the floor. Black frayed the edges of her vision as she gasped for air, the back of her head taking several hits, too.

Kate should have pulled the trigger to save herself.

Instead, the clerk was launched back by Danny, his face distorted into his culebra side. He briefly glanced at Kate, assuring himself that she was heaving for air before he sprouted fangs and sunk them in the neck of the clerk.

Danny did not stop until there was no more blood to take.

“I hesitated,” Kate hissed, more to herself than Danny as she took every dollar bill inside the register and he filled their duffel bag with snacks and other supplies. “It won't happen again.”

“Kate,” Danny called, pausing his ransacking. “That's not a bad thing. It just means you're not a murderer.”

She turned to him, something darkening her green eyes. “I am,” she said. “ _I_ _am_.”

 

**X**

 

The second job was like stealing candy from a baby.

A teen boy was at the front of his family's shop when Kate walked in with a flirty grin. He had barely found the words to greet her with when she had a gun to his head and his money in her bag.

The third job took a week of planning.

A nightclub in Austin was covering sexual abuse with daily, new naked women on stage. Kate could see the old battered women on the other side of the curtain as she counted muscle at every door. When she and Danny strike, she let him bite the owner, draining him. She suggested to the women a vote for new management before she left.

The fourth job was a one-man show.

They found a dive bar with an illegal fight club in the back. Danny went in, coming out with cash, a couple of bruises, and his belly full while Kate waited in the car.

The fifth job had bullets.

The owner of the jewelry story had a rifle Kate had not counted on. He shot from behind a counter of diamond necklaces as Danny wrapped his body around hers, taking the shards of glass and stray bullets heading their way. He told Kate it was time to go, but she stood, letting out a bullet of her own. It hit the owner on the shoulder, making him fall. They left with all the cash and half the jewelry before sirens were heard in the distance.

The sixth job was unexpected.

Kate was out on her own, running a leather-covered finger over expensive dresses when a man in an even more expensive grey suit watched her from the other side of the boutique. She pretended not to notice his hungry eyes, especially since he was with another woman (wife or mistress?), but he followed her out. Kate was almost to her car when an arm wrapped around her waist, flushing her body tightly against the creasing grey suit. She jabbed her elbow into his throat (just how Danny had been teaching her) and he tumbled back, gasping. Something surged in Kate, a fury that was always whispering in her ear, clenching around her heart when silence filled the space around her. It made her strike: bashing her fists against his face over and over again. The noise of an approaching car made her stop. With red, swollen hands beneath leather gloves, Kate reached into his pocket and took out his fat wallet before driving off.

 

**X**

 

“I've been deleting your face off data recognition programs all over Texas,” was the first thing Freddie said to Kate when he saw her again. “I filed a death certificate for you and Scott, too. I used the statement Mexican police made of finding your RV crashed in the desert with no survivors.”

Kate looked up from the handcuffs around her wrists. Her eyes met his brown ones through the rearview mirror of his truck.

“It's not a lie,” she whispered to him, her tone dry and unfeeling (something close to how Amaru used to speak with Kate’s mouth). “That whole family's dead.”

Freddie pressed his lips into a line, looking at her for a moment before looking at his hands clutching the steering wheel. There was regret in his gaze for so many things.

“I should've taken you with me,” he sighed, shaking his head at the specific memory Kate knew he was recalling. “I should've never left you in the Twister. None of this would've happened.”

Kate closed her eyes, trying to push her own memory of that night out of her head. “It's not your fault,” she said, “I didn't want to go back. I had nothing left to go back to.”

Freddie looked back at the rearview mirror. “Come with me. Come home with me and Mags and Billy. They know about this other world, they know what we have fought—”

“No, Freddie.” Kate’s eyes were filled with sad tears (for him, for the shattered illusions his family had to live with, for the nightmares his daughter will have, for his grief over Ximena that could never be voiced). “Don't taint your family by taking me in like a rabid, stray dog.”

He frowned in disapproval (just how a  _ father _ would). “You're not rabid.”

“Maybe,” Kate returned, “Maybe not. But if there's anything I can do for Billy, it's make sure she never sees my face again.”

“If you need me, Kate—”

“You're a phone call away. Yeah, I know.”

Freddie almost smiled, but Kate gave the handcuffs a tug. His frown deepened. “I have a friend, Dakota McGraw, a doctor—she can help you, you know? You can talk to her about everything that's happened.”

Kate rolled her shoulders back, cracking her knuckles as the voices in her head tried to shout over her own.

“I've done the whole psychologist thing,” she said. “It wasn't for me.”

“Have you gone to church?”

“Have  _ you _ ?”

Freddie looked away from the rearview mirror to the dashboard. The key sat there, glittering in the moonlight.

“Don't make me regret letting you go, Kate,” he said, meeting her eyes through the mirror before getting out of the driver’s seat.

Freddie opened the back door and Kate slid out, extending her arms out so he could stick the key in the lock around her wrists.

When she was free of them, he embraced her.

Kate held her breath, her palms balled into fists, making sure they did not touch him.

“You're still good,” Freddie told her. “Don't forget that.”

 

**X**

 

Beneath the self-loathing, Kate was angry.

The dark emotion took residency in her chest, spreading like a virus until it touched her heart, taking it hostage.

She drove for ten hours. The destination? A beach.

She left Danny in the comfort of shade a local dive provided and she sat by the ocean, looking at the orange sun touch the unattainable blue of the waves.

There was once a time the sea brought serenity to her soul.

She had memories of family trips to a small beach town with a little cottage in the distance. Her momma sat on a rocking chair on the porch, watching Kate and Scott splash around on cheap surfboards as her daddy grilled on the side.

She had memories of Seth promising to reach the sea. The plan had been to find a good score or two, steal a new car, and bolt right out of whatever sketchy Mexican town they were trapped in. He would get his blue agave and sunshine and Kate would get the peace her soul desperately required (and they would get each other).

But both memories were just that,  _ memories _ .

One lost and the other unfulfilled.

“Easy, easy,” Danny hissed as he reeled Kate into his chest, her lips pulled back, baring teeth like she was now the culebra. She attempted swinging again, aiming another punch at the biker who brushed past Danny a little too roughly for her liking.

Danny tried to pull her gloves off to assess the damage she had done to herself, but she hid them away.

“Fine,” he sighed, walking over to their shared motel nightstand (where they made it back to after they were thrown out to the curb by the dive’s owners). He took out a first aid kit that he placed at the edge of her bed. “If you're intent on using your fists, I'm gonna teach you to fight properly. None of this petty bullshit, okay? I'm talking Kisa-Fight-Club stuff.”

“Weren't we already doing that?” Kate asked, flinching as she pulled off her left glove and saw torn, red flesh over her knuckles.

Danny scoffed. “That was YMCA, soccer mom defense moves, Kate. You're mad, aren't you? Angry at the world for all it's done to you? Angry at all it's taken from you? Then  _ use _ it.”

 

**X**

 

Danny beat her black and blue, but Kate stood back up every single time she fell down.

She would never be a victim again.

Now she had her gun and her fists.

 

**X**

 

Sometimes Kate thought of Richie.

He was one of the voices inside her head.

It was often her name he whispered to her brain cells, making Kate turn to look behind her shoulder to see if he was actually there. His voice was filled with the same soft, careful, and remorseful twinge she was used to from him.

Richie called, but she never answered.

A part of Kate knew she was afraid to think about him. Thinking of Richie would mean thinking about the night she died, the night Amaru invaded her body and the months of torture Kate endured after it. Or worse, thinking of Richie would mean thinking about  _ Seth _ .

So Kate ignored his voice inside her head. She focused on all the other ones, all the ones that hated her (Amaru) for what she had done to them. Or she drowned herself in blueprints for job number twenty-seven.

Bank robbery was hard. It was the kind of job thieves worked up to, the kind of job they  _ trained  _ for. Banks varied, but they were all commonly rigged with security in every corner to prevent thieves from coming in and taking everything.

Kate could be ambitious when she planned these jobs, but she was far more intelligent with them. She knew she could not hold up a large bank and get out to enjoy her score. So she picked a small one, just near the welcome sign of some small, hick town with an even smaller police department.

She went in, her red hair in smooth waves and a pretty blue dress on her body (black, leather gloves in place), blindsiding the security guard nearest to the bank teller’s desk as Danny took out the one in the entrance.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she said, sending a warning shot to the ceiling, “aside from this little hiccup, today can still be a lovely day. All you have to do is cooperate. And you,” she turned her gun at the shaking bank teller, “give me the money.”

The bank teller took Kate to the money without struggle. The only problem was that it was inside a safe.

“Put in the code,” Kate ordered, pushing her gun closer to the side of his head.

“I can't,” the bank teller cried. “They change the code every night. We won't get the new one until we open.”

Kate resisted the urge to bash her gun over his head. Instead, she forced him to a corner, the gun still pointed at him as she knelt before the safe.

Her head filled with Richie’s voice again.

Kate was intent on ignoring it, until she let out an internal sigh.

_ Of course you were the brains behind this, _ she said to his voice inside her head,  _ it has neurotic, control freak written all over it. _

She never expected the voice to answer back:

_ You shouldn't call people stuff, Katie _ .

She turned to look over her shoulder, but no one was there. She focused her hearing, but all that came from the other room was Danny commanding the others to stay on the floor.

_ That safe is real fucking medieval. You can crack it in two minutes,  _ Richie continued _ , all you gotta do is listen. _

Kate knew she was going insane, but she still listened.

It was what allowed her to make it out the bank with twelve-thousand dollars to her and Danny’s names (and no casualties).

 

**X**

 

Kate was packing up their hotel room (this one with adjoining rooms since they had the money to splurge), when Danny walked in, a photograph in his hand.

She had seen him pull it out of his pocket many times since the night Kisa said he would be staying with her. She never looked over his shoulder to see who he carried with him, nor asked who it was he often looked at when he thought she was asleep. They had their secrets and respected them (just how Danny never asked who Seth was when she muttered his name on the nights she woke up screaming, chanting it like a calming hymn).

“Do you think we'll ever stop moving?” Danny asked, turning his dark eyes from the photograph to Kate.

“We’re thieves, Dan,” she said as she shoved a bottle of sleeping pills Freddie had his doctor friend prescribe for her (they remained untouched) with her other toiletries. “If we stay somewhere too long, we risk getting caught.”

“The peacekeeper deleted you from the system. Kate Fuller is dead now. And me, I'm a culebra. No one will take me.”

Kate took a moment longer to zip up her duffel bag to avoid meeting Danny’s eyes.

He typically knew when not to cross the line she had drawn (to keep him safe, to keep him from getting caught up in her shadows), but he had moments of not letting her get away with brushing him off.

This was one of those moments.

She sighed, turning around to face him, “We’ve done good for ourselves, haven't we? What more is there?”

“ _ Life _ , Kate,” he said, a little harshly, a little loudly. “You're running from something more than the memories of Amaru, and this isn't the way to live. This isn't the why  _ I _ want to live.”

“Then go,” she said just as harshly, just as loudly. “The door is right there, Danny. If you're done repenting and mourning, then  _ leave _ .”

Red settled beneath his tan cheeks. “So, that's it? Bonnie got left at the side of a road, and now she thinks she can do the same to me?”

“You are  _ not _ my Cl—” Kate stopped, closing her eyes when the memory of that cold, rainy night tried to claw its way to the top. She took a deep breath, rolling her shoulders back to push the memory out. “Why? Why does this matter now, Danny?”

He copied her action, inhaling deep to settle the quivering of his hands. The anger that flashed his eyes yellow turned into grief. He lost his gaze at the photograph again.

It took him a minute, but he turned it over, showing it to Kate. It was of a little boy and little girl, arms looped around each other as they gave wide, toothless grins at the camera.

“That's Anita?” Kate asked with a whisper, her heart longing for her brother now.

Danny nodded, his eyes brimming with tears. “It's her birthday today. She would've been twenty.... Our parents were hardworking immigrants who pushed us to better ourselves. Anita strived for that American dream bullshit, while I fought the world that made me feel less. When she was raped...I fought for  _ her _ . I fought for her future.”

“Then I came,” Kate said. “Then I got her killed.”

“Then  _ Amaru _ came. Then I got bit.” Danny wiped a fallen tear off his cheek before looking up at Kate again. “Why don't we settle down? Go to Portland or something, find an apartment and make friends with hipsters that drink soy lattes and eat vegan burgers?”

Kate felt tears of her own swim in her eyes.

Because that was not her home.

Because he was not her home.

"You still don't believe you deserve that, do you?” she asked instead. “If you did, you would've left a long time ago.”

“I stay because of you, Kate.”

“No,” her tears fell, “you stay to redeem yourself. You stay because you think by saving me, you save Anita. You stay because you think I can give you forgiveness.”

Danny pressed the photograph to his chest.

“She forgave you,” Kate whispered to him. “You forgive those you love. Now all you have to do is forgive yourself.”

Now all she had to do was forgive herself.

 

**X**

 

“Ow!” Danny winced from Kate’s nails digging into his skin. “I said I'm sorry!”

“We had a plan,” she said through clenched teeth, pressing her back against his as she positioned her fists in front of her face. “We were going to steal the winnings and walk out of here like Paul Newman.”

“ _ Who? _ ”

Kate aimed a back kick to his calf as a group of pissed off culebras circled them inside their bloodstained fighting ring.

“You weren't supposed to settle old scores,” she reprimanded. “You're walking back to the motel once we're—”

Kate didn't get to finish her tame threat when a massive Culebra launched himself at her, baring fangs and claws.

Danny transformed just as Kate dove in with a battle cry of her own.

Her fist collided with the culebra’s nose before his body hit hers; the distraction gave her two seconds in her favor, letting her whip out the gun with wooden bullets from the holster around her right thigh. She shot three, prolonging the end to hear the culebra growl in pain before she deposited one in his heart.

Kate did not get a chance to see the ash pile up before she was thrown forward, hitting a wall. She rolled over, jumping back onto her feet to see a bald, tattooed man sneering in her direction.

Her gun was in his hand.

When he pointed it, pulling back the trigger, she slid across the wet floor, ending up before him. She kicked his left knee, moving to aim another at his ribs, making him stumble back. She tried taking her gun, but he bashed it at the side of her head, the impact forcing her down.

Kate groaned, one of the voices in her head (her own this time) told her to get back up.

Her back was pulling up from the floor when he threw himself at her, pushing her down. The fingers of his left hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing, just as his right hand moved underneath her dress, forcing her thighs apart.

Kate choked on the cry that burned up her throat.

She scratched his face once before he was yanked off of her.

She gasped for air, color breaking past the black of her spotting vision.

Kate expected to see Danny looming over her, but it was Seth.

_ Seth _ .

It was Seth who staked the culebra in the chest, stepping over his ashes to extend a hand out to Kate.

She took it to feel that he was real.

The screeches and howls of culebras tearing each other apart faded from her eardrums, just as the rest of the world was disappearing from her knowledge.

_ Seth _ .

How could anything (anyone) else exist when he was right there, his hand in hers?

“Are you two fucking done?”

The moment shattered, Richie’s voice slithering in through the cracks.

“Andre the fucking Giant here just sliced me like a fucking sushi roll, you assholes.”

Kate and Seth turned to find Richie with a slash across his abdomen. The culebra wielding the blade was ready to swing again, but Seth charged.

“Seriously, who the fuck are these guys?” Danny asked, appearing behind Kate, their backs flushed together again. “Men in Black?”

The head of a culebra rolled past Kate and Danny, courtesy of Seth.

“I'm Seth Gecko, motherfucker,” he spat, glaring Danny down. “Who the fuck are you? La Bamba?”

Kate lunged at another enemy to avoid meeting Danny’s realization.

She took one punch, slice, kick after another, but Kate believed they were going to make it out, leaving behind piles of ash for the next heathens to find.

She was wrong.

She took another blow to the head, but before she landed on her knees, Richie snaked an arm around her middle, pulling her back from the swinging zone just as Danny hit the ground.

There was a stake in his chest.

“No, no, no,” Kate cried, pushing herself away from Richie’s protective cage. Seth tried to block her, but she dove beneath his arm, throwing herself at Danny. Her gloved hands hovered over the stake, shaking.

Danny coughed up blood.

“Kate,” Richie called from the background, his tone firm and cold (all-knowing). “If you pull it out, he's still gonna die.”

“You don't—”

“He's right,” Danny cut across Kate’s protest. “It'll... it'll cut my heart on the way out.”

Kate shook her head, her gloves becoming red with his blood as her sight became hazy with tears. “No, okay, Dan. _No_. We’ll go to Portland, or England, or anywhere there's no sun. I'll give soy lattes a chance, and we'll make fun of hipsters, and.... Don't die, Danny.  _ Please _ .”

Danny paled quickly, blood still coming out past his lips. He tried reaching into his pocket, but he hissed at the strain.

Kate’s hand reached in to take out his photograph. When she tried placing it in his trembling fingers, Danny shook his head.

“Keep it,” he whispered now. “Just send me to Anita. I... I wanna see my sister again.”

Kate tore her eyes away from the photograph, her head filling with memories of being trapped down in the temple that was the Twister—the same haunted temple where her father was bit and he begged her to stake him to stop him from becoming a monster.

_ Send me home. _

Her tears stopped when a cold shiver raced up her spine, one she couldn't shake off.

“And, Kate?” Danny said just as her hands went to grab the stake in his chest, his eyes blinking to the men standing behind her before he returned them back to her, “stop running.”

There was so much she wanted to say to him, (something like  _ thank you _ , something like  _ I'm glad you stayed  _ ), but the words never left Kate’s mouth. Instead, she held in the cry, the pain, the devastation as she plunged the stake deeper into Danny’s chest.

He turned to ash and Kate added another name to her list of the dead.

 

**X**

 

Kate knew they would find her (somehow they always did). She sensed Richie (and Seth) down the road; so when they broke down the door to her motel room, she did not flinch at their rude intrusion.

She continued to stuff her weapons in a black bag that would never be used by its owner again.

“You Xena now?” Richie asked, walking over to take a sword from the wonky table at the far end of the room. “Warrior Princess and all that shit? Guess it's real fitting for you, Katie-Cakes.”

Kate looked up, glaring at him just as Seth blinked between the two beds. When he met her eyes, she heard the question he was never going to ask.

“What the fuck are you doing with all of this, anyway?" Richie continued. “Planning on overthrowing an empire of your own?”

“What were you doing at the warehouse?” Kate asked instead.

Richie shrugged, looking back down at the blades.

“Santanico needed a favor,” Seth said.

Kate ignored the flutter her soul gave at his voice (at his presence). “Her name is Kisa,” she corrected, clearing her throat.

“Who gives a fuck.” Seth picked up the crossbow laid at the edge of a shoddy TV stand. “She needed someone to shut the ring down. Those scaly fuckers were selling girls in the level above.”

_ Gentleman thief. _

Kate rolled her shoulders back, attempting to get rid of Amaru’s voice from inside her head.

“Did you free them?”

“We got held up,” Richie said. “You know, fate and all that bullshit.”

Kate picked up the bag of weapons before taking the crossbow out of Seth’s hands, slinging it over her shoulder. “I'll free them once I'm done with those bloodsuckers.”

“What the fuck do you— _ no! _ ”

Kate did not flinch at the anger in Seth’s gaze (and voice). She had seen it so many times before, this shade of righteous anger that took over him when he was trying to protect her.

But he didn't have to. Kate knew how to protect herself now.

“Is that what you're doing here? Playing a goddamn Avenger? I hate to break it to you, princess, but you're not the fucking Black Widow.”

“They killed Danny, Seth. I  _ have _ to.”

“It's fucking suicide!” Seth growled, reaching for her arm, pulling her away from her path for the door. “Jesus fucking Christ, what is it with you and these fucking street-rats—”

Kate felt her knuckles sting before they collided with Seth’s jaw.

Richie stopped snooping through the drawers Kate had not emptied, blue eyes struggling with amusement and disbelief when they zeroed in on the scene.

Venom created by her fury and Amaru’s remaining evil pooled in her mouth, wanting to come out and paralyze its victim. Kate knew the words were going to add salt to the wounds that had yet to heal, but she still said, “ _ They _ didn't abandon me.”

Seth was infected. His brown eyes flashed with a hurt she often saw in her dreams, the same she saw in his soul when Amaru tried to take it.

_ I'm sorry. _

_ I don't forgive you. _

Kate slowly pulled her arm from his grip, turning to walk out that door, but he found his voice again.

“Don't go,” Seth said, his hands balled into fists as he looked back up at her, determination attempting to win over his remorse. “Come with us.”

Her heart pounded with the same anger that had been a faithful companion since Amaru went back to hell, but there was also a longing so powerful tugging at it, trying to get rid of all the black spots with mending gold.

Kate did not drop the bag or the crossbow slung over her shoulder, but she stopped running.

_ You two (  _ three _ ) try and hate each other, but God keeps bringing you back together. _

 

**X**

 

The three of them went back to the warehouse.

Kate tore the culebra that killed Danny to shreds.

Ash piled up inside the fighting ring.

Ten terrified, scantily dressed women were untied and released from the dark, cold room where they were kept hostage.

Kate sat on the backseat of a sleek, black Mustang, Seth in the driver seat and Richie riding shotgun.

She got Danny because he pledged himself to her, to a path of redemption he thought Kate was the golden ticket to help him prevail. Still, despite his quest for something she was not searching for, Kate cared for him.

Grieving tears fell down her cheeks as the sun started to poke through the dark clouds.

She hoped Danny was home, just as she might be on the way to hers.

 

**X**

 

“Why are you being such a bitch to him?” Richie asked, coming up behind the punching bag suffering Kate’s frustration. At her glare, he said, “Yeah, fine, I know  _ why _ , but I need you to stop. It's getting in the way of our planning. I need him sharp, but instead he keeps fucking muttering to himself and throwing shit, and it's usually  _ my _ shit that gets broken.”

Kate aimed a punch at the bag, making it swing into Richie’s side, almost forcing him back a step. He frowned at her, impatience reflecting off the lenses of his glasses.

“This was a mistake,” she said, unwrapping the white bandage from her left hand. “I shouldn't have come with you. I was fine on my own.”

“Bullshit,” Richie scoffed. “Gonzalez showed me your map, you were all over the place, running like a dog chasing its own tail. You were  _ lost _ .”

“I wasn't—”

“You should've come with us the moment we defeated Amaru,” he interrupted her. “When we escaped the underworld, me and you were running towards the same thing, but you didn't stick to the plan, Stan. You didn't adjust, you fucking scrapped it completely.”

Kate sighed, looking down at her bare hands.

Despite the bullets she took because of Richie’s quest for a culebra throne, despite the bloodbath he left behind at her (Amaru’s) command, Kate and Richie could still see through to each other. He could still see her bleeding out, wounded and gasping for air, desperate to be seen, and she could still see  _ him _ clearly past all the shadows that followed after him (just like they now followed after her, too), she could see a goodness in him that got distorted and confused from all the voices inside his head that told him he would never be anything else but a psychopathic monster.

_ Remember what we shared. _

His fingertips barely touched her hand before she yanked it away, eyes wide with a fear that still held her hostage.

The remorse that often appeared in the way he looked at her was back, a form of grief darkened his blue eyes for the preacher’s daughter at the Dew Drop Inn that no longer lived.

They were never going to get back to that, they  _ both _ knew it; they were never going to get back to whom they were that sunny day by the poolside. Fate had set out a bloody, disastrous course for them—whatever innocence, whatever helplessness they carried was never meant to survive this life.

There was no use to pretend his words did not hold a truth she had been trying to stuff in the back of her tormented mind, so Kate said, “I don't want to be left at the side of a road again.”

Richie tucked a red strand of hair behind her ear, smiling softly at her. “After he lost you...He's never gonna let you go, Kate.”

_ He (  _ we _ ) really missed you. _

 

**X**

 

That first day with them, Kate walked into their office and asked for her own room.

“Yeah, sure,” Richie had said, ready to comply with her every request. “We've got the space. We’ll get some of the guys to get on it for you.”

Seth had looked up from the paperwork laid out in front of him, his eyes boring into the side of her face that she refused to meet (she knew she would find the brown in them to be questioning, angry, betrayed).

“Yeah,” he had cleared his throat, giving his attention to other things like his jaw had not squared off and his right hand had not clenched into a fist, “whatever you want, princess.”

After eleven nights of tossing and turning, Kate left her makeshift bedroom for his.

She had not knocked; she opened his door, the moonlight acting like a spotlight to where she wanted to be.

He still slept how she remembered: on his back, his left forearm resting over his his head, and his gun on the right side of the nightstand.

Placing her own gun beside his, she pulled up the covers and slid in. She stilled for a moment, at the close encounter with another person, but then scooted closer to his left side, placing her head on his shoulder and her palm on his chest.

It was not thirty seconds later that she felt his index finger trace the stitching of her leather glove.

Kate let out a breath she had no idea she had been holding in.

“I'm not a damsel in distress,” she murmured into the darkness of the room. “I don't need you to sic culebra bodyguards on me, and I don't need you to volunteer me as the getaway driver every time there's a job lined up.”

“Are you staying here?” he asked, his voice just as low and deep as she remembered from their sleepless nights in Mexico.

“Yes.”

He turned his body in an angle, his right arm reaching over to be slung around her waist, holding her close. “Then fine. I'll call off the guys and volunteer Richie to drive.”

Kate sighed. “No you're not.”

“No, not a fucking chance.”

_ Seth, you need to stop trying to protect me. _

_ Will you give it a rest, please? _

Before the silence decided to lullaby them to a rare sleep they only seemed to get when the other was around, Kate looked up to find Seth was already looking at her.

The intensity glimmering in his brown eyes rattled her soul.

Kate carefully put her gloved hand on the side of his face, running a thumb gently on the stubble lining his jaw.

“It's not your fault I died,” she whispered the truth caught in the shadows Amaru left behind in her mind. “It's not your fault Amaru took me.”

“No,” Seth swallowed roughly, “but it's my fault you ended up at that fucking bloodwell.”

_ You wanna play in the darkness, little Miss Sunshine? _

_ Get the hell out. _

“My daddy used to say God has a plan for all of us,” Kate moved her thumb from his jaw to his bottom lip, softly tracing the swell of it. “Maybe mine was this...Maybe mine is you.”

Seth held his breath, his bottomless brown eyes getting lost in her green.

“You remember when that queen bitch tried to take my soul?” he finally spoke, the hand over her waist now slowly moving up (making her shiver) before ending up at the side of her face. His thumb traced her bottom lip now, too.

_ You used her. You used her and you got her killed. _

Kate saw in his soul the moment Richie told him she was gone. It blindsided him, and nothing ever did. Seth had assumed ( _ believed _ ) Kate kept driving through the night after they parted ways (after he left her, thinking she would be better on her own, better  _ without _ him), that she would go back to Bethel and restart the pastel life she had there before all the sharp black and vibrant red came.

But Seth was wrong. Kate kept driving through the night, but ended up finding her brother. Kate kept driving through the night, but ended up with two bullets in her stomach.

_ Don't say her name _ .

Kate saw in his soul the moment he knew he would rip the world apart to avenge her. He would bleed to see Carlos destroyed, to take everything away from him, just as he had done to Seth.

And he had lost more than the thirty-three million dollars that were promised to him. Seth had lost Eddie. Seth had lost Kate.

_ All of this is built on bad blood, anyway. And the body of a dead kid. _

Kate saw in his soul the moment his denial turned to guilt and anger. He started to blame Richie; he blamed him for their shitty jobs as collectors for the Nine Lords, blamed him for the fact that she was gone and never coming back. Seth didn't even get to have a grave for her, someplace he could go and make himself believe she was resting in peace, away from all the bullshit the living endured.

They had torn her world to shreds—of course these demons were coming, of course they were after him and Richie to collect. Seth knew they didn't get to live, they didn't get to fill their pockets and see the moon come out every night when she died for nothing (when she died because of them).

_ Kate. I saw Kate out there. _

Kate saw in his soul the night he refused to say her name again. He stumbled drunk into his room, throwing his jacket on his bed, rolling up his sleeves. His mind called him a monster, louder that night than any other. He stalked to his drawer, opening it, throwing his clothes out—and then he found it, his needles and venom. He had not touched it since Mexico, but he kept seeing her everywhere, following him like shadow, following him since he went to that bloodwell and did not find her body. He tied the band around his upper arm, but he stopped before the needle touched his skin. He did  _ not _ get to escape, not this time. He deserved to suffer, to feel her loss every single day.

When he saw her on the other side of that fighting ring, red hair, dark leather, and black paint rimming green eyes, Seth’s mind chanted her name over and over like a prayer.

_ Fuck that. How do we get her back? How do we get it out of her? _

Kate saw in his soul the determination that filled his chest to find her. He had been skeptical of Richie and his old myths of warriors and rivers and wars, but when they found Burt, Seth knew they were going to get her back. He would do anything to make that happen, so he could see her green eyes looking back at him, fully alive.

Richie wanted to compromise with Amaru, offer something up in exchange for Kate, but Seth had not cared to negotiate—it was  _ Kate’s _ body, he would pull the queen of hell out himself if she refused to give her back.

_ She's gone. Just let her go. _

Kate saw in his soul the moment his heart broke all over again. It had chipped off into pieces when Richie declared her dead, but then Seth saw her again, his heart mending back into a disfigured form, only to be told she was gone— _ truly _ gone. It shattered again, this thing that beat and breathed and fluttered only for Kate.

He had to put her down; it was the only way for Amaru to stop using Kate’s body for evil (for everything the preacher’s daughter could never be or do). This queen was tainting Kate’s good soul, using those hands that often touched Seth so gently it made him believe heaven lived within her.

_ Sorry, don't have one. _

Kate saw in his soul the moment Seth realized he loved her. It was one of the few memories he held on to, looked to when the night was too dark and violent, bringing him light and strength (despite the remorse he felt) to make it to another sun.

They were in Mexico, in a shabby motel in Guadalajara, laying over scratchy sheets as the air conditioner roared their constant lullaby. Sleep appeared to be benevolent that night, running fingers through their hair, encouraging them to close their eyes, when in his haze Seth asked, “Where will you go?”

It took Kate a moment to blink her eyes open, looking at him past her lashes. In the same quiet tone he used, she said, “Wherever you're going.”

They shared a bed, but he had never touched her, even when there was a breaking centimeter of space separating them. Yet, at the sincerity that poked through her exhaustion, he gently brushed her brown hair from her face to better see her.

“I might end up in hell,” he had whispered to her. “I'm halfway there now.”

Kate let herself touch him, too. She caressed his bearded cheek, her eyelids fluttering close before she mumbled, “I'm still here with you, aren't I? Because that's...that's what you do...you do when...when...”

Seth never found out how that sentenced would end. Kate had fallen asleep, her hand still pressed to his cheek.

“Yeah,” Kate said now, “I remember.”

Alike that night that seemed to be a galaxy away, Seth brushed back (red) hair from her face, getting lost in her green eyes. “Then you know my plan became you.”

 

**X**

 

Seth called off two of the three men he ordered to shadow Kate. 

Kate was not happy about it, but Poncho was not too bad as far as bodyguards went (he was really funny and well-versed in mainstream pop media, but he still would never disobey  _ el jefe _ , even if Kate gave him her best pout with attempt to sway him).

Seth gritted his teeth, swallowing back objections when she placed herself at the center of a new job, but gave her free (considerable) reign to do what she (shockingly) did best. 

Still, when he and Richie were in the backroom, shaking up a group of sketchy men with sketchy dealings, Seth abandoned mission when clattering and a scream sounded from the other room.

He had his gun out, fear forcing his heart to pound in his chest with damaging thoughts (memories) of finding Kate bleeding on the floor, but he found her standing tall, a black, heeled boot digging into the neck of a large man, her own gun pressed to the head of another.

Kate turned, her smooth red hair whipping behind her bare shoulders. She raised a sharp brow at him as she said, “I don't see Richie or bags full of money.”

Seth was (astonishingly) rendered speechless, brown eyes roaming her up and down, darkening with something that made the air palpable with more than adrenaline and the stench of alcohol and blood.

“These boys will behave. Won't you?” she asked the man beneath her boot. At his groan, she turned back to Seth and said, “Go. I've got this.”

And Kate did.

 

**X**

 

Sometimes, Kate did  _ not _ .

She ventured out, on autopilot, Poncho falling after her through the hive of buzzing people, only to find her hiding in a dark, isolated crook, struggling to breathe. The noise of society filled her eardrums, piercing right in, waking up the voices of all the people that lost their lives at her (both hers and Amaru’s) hands. Tears would gather in her green eyes, despair and frustration and anger reflecting off them, exposing what her soul looked like now.

“Take me back,” she would say, whether to Poncho or to herself, it had never been clear. Still, the culebra would drive her back to the makeshift home the Geckos called their own.

Kate never admitted to her fear of being in public (of being around vulnerable people who could have easily died with a single touch from her); she would walk into Seth and Richie’s office, grabbing a book off the pile of Richie’s recommended list and sit on the open chair across Seth’s desk, working on shutting out the voices and calming the frightened bray of her heart with the words printed on the page.

Seth nor Richie ever questioned why she returned earlier than expected, or why her to-do list for the day hardly had anything crossed off.

While Kate had proved to be more than capable of handling her own, the unexpected hurdles that came with the career of a professional thief left her rattled for days.

The three were shaking up a crooked businessman (Richie with his gun pointed at Don Cisco’s head, Seth to two of his henchmen, and Kate filling their bags with his stolen diamonds and laundered money), when Don Cisco rose up from his seat, digging a hidden blade at the side of Richie’s neck.

Seth moved instantly, but the two henchmen flanked him down just as Don Cisco plunged his knife into any part of Richie he could get to. She did not think about it; Kate lunged, dropping the bag with their loot, bashing her gun at the man’s head, knocking him down and away from Richie. When he rolled over to look at her, Kate pulled the trigger.

She didn't stop until the clip was empty.

When they made it out, Kate stripped out of her ruined grey dress. The water was scalding when she stepped into the shower; it instantly went from clear to red.

She hadn't know how long she was there, but the boiling water went cold—but Seth slid open the shower door. He found her pressed against the tiled wall, knees up to her chest, eyes red from crying, skin a raw shade of pink from the previously scalding water, and soul weak with an inescapable remorse.

Fully clothed, he stepped in. Cold water fell on both as he carefully put arms around her.

Kate’s voice was hoarse when she said, “He deserved it, right?”

“He did.”

Neither mentioned how Richie (a  _ culebra  _ ) would have survived a thousand stab wounds.

Neither mentioned how  _ one _ bullet to the shoulder or kneecap would have forced Don Cisco to surrender.

“They don't get to have Richie,” Kate cried, a level of spite and desperation in her words. “They don't get to have you. They don't get to have anymore of my people.”

They = Amaru.

Seth brushed tears and water from her face, vulnerability in his own eyes when he said, “No one's taking us from you, princess.”

 

**X**

 

Kate had been locked up ( _ hiding  _ ) in the room Richie had put together for her, bringing antiques as decor pieces and expensive, plush rugs and embroidered furniture like it was hosting a queen. She only stayed there the first eleven nights, only to then accept ( _ want  _ ) the first two drawers of Seth’s dresser, half of his closet, and half of his bed. 

Seth knocked the night she found herself in the dark, cowering in a corner from the nightmares that were leaking out her mind and into reality.

“It's two in the morning, Kate,” he had said from the other side of the door, “let's go to bed.”

She didn't answer him.

Not when the joints of her body burned in memory of how he and Tanner pulled her to its limit.

_ Why did you do this to me? _

“Kate,” he then murmured, concern flooding his voice and in beneath the door, “please...Don't let her win.”

_ You can't beat her. She's too powerful. _

_ Fuck that. You fight. _

She didn't open the door, but she knew he didn't retreat. She heard his back slide against the door, his body blocking the faint light from his side into hers.

The sun rose and fell, but Kate still didn't move.

Richie came when the moon took over the midnight blue sky. He knocked harder than Seth had.

“We have a job lined up, Kate. A good one. You're on the lead. Let's make it happen,” he had tried to persuade.

_ What does she want? _

She didn't answer him.

Not when she felt her skin tear up again, bullet-sized holes invading her stomach. Not when she could still smell his flesh burning.

“Kate,” he had used the same soft tone he always adapted when he spoke to her, but there was a flicker of impatience in it, “We gotta move on.”

_ She's not even supposed to be here. _

_ I am supposed to be here. _

She didn't open the door, but he didn't leave. From the other side, he spent the night explaining and dissecting all of his favorite heroes journeys, beginning with Chuck Noris.

The sun chased the moon out the sky when there was another knock on her door. When she didn't answer, it was kicked down. The yellow light poured in from the other side, harshly conquering the darkness inside of her room.

In walked Kisa, red lips and dark eyes.

She found Kate in her corner, skin paler than ever, emerald gaze deader than ever. Her heeled boots sounded off on the wooden panels Richie had a culebra install; when she was standing over Kate, Kisa extended a hand out for her to take.

_ I'm so sorry. I couldn't stop her. _

_ It's not your fault. _

With a sob ripping out her throat, Kate put her gloved hand in Kisa’s.

Effortlessly, Kisa helped her up, pulling her into the same embrace they shared the last time they saw each other.

Kate was weak then, too.

Kate had killed more since then, too.

Kate had lost another person (Danny) since then, too.

Kisa helped her to the sleek, unused vanity, carefully guiding her on the embroidered stool.

Kate turned from the reflection of the broken monster before her.

“You're angry and you're in pain,” Kisa said, her brown eyes softer than her sharp words. She picked up the jeweled brush on Kate’s counter, gently combing it through her hair. “You lost so much. You get to feel that—you get to  _ grieve _ it.”

_ After all that I've done, I deserve this walk. _

_ Are you here for redemption? _

“The longer you think you don't deserve forgiveness, Kate, the longer those voices will haunt you.” Kisa stilled the brush, placing it back on the counter so she could gently touch Kate’s shoulders. “That bitch is dead.  _ You _ sent her back to hell. Don't give her anymore power of you.”

“How?” Kate breathed, squeezing her eyes shut, afraid to look in the mirror. “How do I take back my life if every time I think I can make it, she takes everything from me again.”

Kisa squeezed her left shoulder. “I fell in love with Manola, but I still had nightmares of Malvado. I became the queen  _ mis culebras _ need me to be, but I still feel the chains of imprisonment. You...You ran from all of us, but the moment Seth and Richard showed up, you ran _to_ them. You can cry and have nightmares of the war you survived, Kate, but you're home now.”

_ In whose eyes? Your God’s? _

_ In the eyes of the people I love. _

“Our scars,” said Kisa, her right hand moving to gently cup the side of Kate’s cheek, “don’t make us weak. It just proves we have been shattered, but we're still whole. It just proves we have been to war, but we're still warriors.”

Kate slowly opened her eyes.

 

_ I’m going to do the one thing I couldn't do when she was controlling me _ — _ I’m going to stop her. _

 

**X**

 

Water cleansed her of three days of self-loathing and despair. Kate knew it would take more than a steaming shower to wash away Amaru, but it was a fight she was not willing to keep putting off. 

Maybe one day she could forgive herself for all that she had done.

For now, Kisa was right—Kate was home. A home of her choosing. A home she had allowed herself to have because she believed she deserved to go after what her heart wanted.

And one of the things it most wanted waited for her in his bedroom.

“Hey,” Seth said, starting to get up from his— _ their _ —bed when she walked in, red hair wet down her back and his old shirt on her body.

Kate moved to his side, the action making his brown eyes gain a glimmer of confusion as she sat by his knees. “You called her?”

She didn't have to read minds to know he contemplated blaming it on Richie, but with his fierce need to protect her, Seth said, “As much as I want to help you, Kate, I gotta fucking admit I'm the last person that can. That bitch from hell... she took you, but I fucking did, too.”

Kate shook her head, muttering, “It's not the same, Seth.”

“I pointed a gun at your head and forced you to Mexico. She possessed you and forced you to do all her evil shit. It's  _ both _ still fucking kidnapping, Kate.” Before she could defend him, Seth added, “You needed to talk to someone who was once a prisoner, someone who knows what it's like to live after being set free. And if the goddamn Snake Queen has the answers to help you, I figured a phone call wouldn't fucking kill me.”

Slowly, Kate pulled off the leather gloves that have been just as consistent as the scars on her wrists. Her hands shook, but she kept telling herself not to be afraid—She kept telling herself that Amaru was dead, that she was free from her.

She kept telling herself that Amaru did not get to have her life or the people she loved.

It was Kate’s.

Hers and hers alone.

_ Do you want some company? _

“You did kidnap me, yeah,” Kate muttered, “but somewhere between culebras and being trapped down in that temple, you set me free. I had the chance to leave, but I didn't take it. I saw you and that RV, and I chose  _ you _ .”

“Not your brightest choice, princess,” he returned. “Look where it got you.”

_ You shouldn't even be here. _

_ Then where should I be? _

“It got me to you,” Kate said, her heart picking up in rhythm as she moved her trembling, bare hands to the sharp sides of his face.

Nothing happened.

Nothing happened but the flutter of her soul coming alive at the feel of his skin against hers.

Nothing happened but the tender glimmer of devotion in his brown eyes when he melted into her touch.

Nothing happened but the moment both of them had been longing for.

The surge of adrenaline (of hope) that shot up Kate’s spine propelled her forward into his arms as she wrapped hers around his neck. She barely got a glimpse of his eyes before she pressed her lips down on his.

Just like the blood they had shared, Seth was filled with all the burning, overwhelming emotions Kate was breathing into him. His hands found her waist, gripping like a lifeline as his back fell against the headboard of their bed.

Kate hovered over him, her tongue meeting his, and she thought she had never felt this alive since reclaiming her body. It seemed fitting it was with Seth that she felt she could crumble mountains and part oceans—he believed in her. He believed in her more than she ever believed in herself.

_ I know the one thing you're actually afraid of. Something you didn't count on.  _ Kate _. _

Seth’s right hand slid from her waist to the back of her thigh, hooking it over his hip as he rolled them over. With their bodies pressed tightly together, his moan and hers tied together.

Kate tasted his self-will before he even whispered against her neck that they needed to stop.

As difficult as it was for them to pull their mouths from each other, Kate did not stop touching Seth (she kept running fingertips on his jaw, on his chest, and traced his tattoo) until sleep granted them an undisturbed night.

_ You know she's in there. And you know she's  _ stronger _ than you are. _

 

**X**

 

“Lalo, Poncho,” Kate called as she walked into the warehouse, looking up from the inventory list attached to the clipboard Richie gave her that morning with her eggs and hashbrowns. “How are things coming along?”

Poncho dropped his crate to take the styrofoam cup from her left hand as Lalo carried his to the freight truck. He made a face after sipping on it. “ _ Que chingado es esto? _ ”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Herbal tea.”

“Where's the whiskey and coffee?” Poncho asked, pushing the cup back into Kate’s hand like it did him an offense.

“That'd be my cup,” Seth said as he walked in, Richie striding ahead of him (his own clipboard in hand).

Lalo jumped off the back of the truck. “We have five more crates to load and the shipment should be ready.”

Kate handed Lalo the styrofoam cup, which he happily accepted, earning him a frown from Seth and Poncho for the obvious favoritism (no one else got hot beverages from Kate). She flipped over the first page on her clipboard. “First stop is where the two rivers meet. Freddie will be waiting for you there to help you unload.”

“He’ll owe you fifteen grand,” Richie interrupted. “Make sure he pays you. If not, beat the shit outta him.”

“It's free,” Seth corrected, annoyed at Richie already. He took a long drink from his spiked coffee because of it. “Don't cross the Peacekeeper or you'll be ash in the wind.  _ Comprende _ ?”

As Poncho and Lalo nodded, Kate said, “After meeting with Freddie, you've got a five hour drive to—”

She didn't get to finish. When it came to dealing with some of the supernatural residues Amaru left behind in her body, Kate had a good handle on the sensing culebras bit. Since she lived with one and worked with others, Kate could count them, sense their essences individually; because of that, one more came to her attention that had not been previously accounted for.

This one she had memorized.

Kate dropped her clipboard, turning her back at the men before her to run up and throw her arms around her brother before anyone else registered he had walked in.

“You never showed up,” Scott said, his arms at his sides as she tightened hers around him.

Kate pulled herself back a step. “What?”

“Don't give me that I-Don't-Know-What-You’re-Talking-About bullshit, Kate,” Scott hissed, the sound carrying around the warehouse.

It made Seth and Richie turn toward them, alert at the flash of yellow in Scott’s eyes (Poncho and Lalo shadowing them).

Kate rolled her shoulders back, trying to push away the ember of anger that wanted to grow into a flame. “I was busy,” she said as she picked up the clipboard, flipping pages on it absentmindedly. “I'll go next year.”

Scott took the clipboard from her hands. “I waited for you,” his words were still sharp, still loud, “but instead you were here, playing fucking culebras and bank robbers with these two assholes.”

“Easy, kid,” Seth interfered the moment the yellow in Scott’s eyes became still. He stood behind Kate, close enough to pull her back if needed. “Wanna reel in the viper shit?”

“You stay out of this,” Scott snarled.

The sound of a gun cocking echoed in the distance. Richie walked up, pointing it at Scott. “Use your inside voice or get the hell out.”

Kate reached for the gun, pulling it away from the direction of her brother as she frowned at Richie for his action. She looked behind him, throwing a warning look at Poncho and Lalo before they followed his lead, too.

Instead of reprimanding Richie, Kate turned to Scott and very hesitantly said, “I got in the car, drove a few miles away from Bethel, but I just... I couldn't cross into that town. Nothing is the same.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Scott, a tone of bitterness in his words, “I burn in the sun now. But  _ I _ still went to visit Mom’s grave.  _ I _ still took flowers to the church’s memorial of her.”

Kate’s eyes burned with unshed tears. “I love Momma, Scott, I mourn her every day—just like I mourn Daddy, but  _ I _ died, too. I killed. I was possessed.  _ God _ did all that. He took everything from us. I don't want to walk into a church Momma loved and light up a candle in her memory when I don't believe in any of it.”

The flare of anger Scott had been feeling himself diminished at the tears down Kate’s cheeks. There was only a shade of misery in his eyes when he said, “I was mad at God, too, Kate, but He gave you back. I prayed and He gave you back to me.”

Behind Kate, Seth shifted on his feet.

“It wasn't God,” Kate murmured. “It was a needle and a blood transfusion.”

Scott sighed. “Don't you at least believe in Mom? Wasn't that enough to take you back, for us to be together when we visit her grave?”

Kate wiped her eyes with the back of her gloved hand. “We’re here now, aren't we? You and me. Isn't that all Momma really wanted?”

Glancing over at the Geckos, resentment and anger and frustration darkening his eyes, Scott still let out a huff of resignation, shrugging. “You're my sister, Kate. I'm not going anywhere. Even if you have horrible taste in what you call friends.”

“Friends,” Richie repeated with a snort, stuffing his gun back into the waistband of his black trousers. He snapped his fingers at Poncho and Lalo, ordering them back to work before he said, “Guess Katie hasn't updated her Facebook profile to ‘in a relationship’.”

Scott raised a brow. “What do you—?”

“ _ Richard _ , ” Seth and Kate warned, narrowing brown and green eyes at him.

Richie grinned and Scott groaned.

_ I've done some very messed up things in my life. I'll be the first to admit that, but _ you...

_ In the eyes of the people I love. _

“I  _ knew _ you two were flirting down in that tunnel,” Scott accused. “Really, Kate? I'd take any Jesus Freak over Seth Gecko.”

 

Seth flipped Scott the finger, wrapping an arm around Kate’s shoulder as she said, “I wouldn't.”

 

**X**

 

While Kate found the strength to fight off the nightmares she thought she deserved to relive over and over again, she never dreamt of things from a life that sounded more like a fairytale than a reality she used to have. She knew the pastel memories were there, somewhere in the dark, tangle web of her mind—they were hers after all, but the vivid, painful ones of Mexican heat, blood, culebras, guts, dirt roads, dark motels, bullets, ash, demons, and hell overpowered them. 

But the moment her eyes opened and she rolled over, her hand searching for Seth’s warm body, she remembered her dream.

She was back in Bethel. Her Momma was still alive, with a better grip on her mental health, her Daddy was still a preacher with unshakeable faith, and Scott was still a human able to bask in the sun.

They were in the backyard of their home (no dead Jessica buried in the ground), sitting at the table having breakfast on a beautiful Saturday morning, her parents talking about the dance they shared under fairy-lights where they first fell in love. Scott laughed at Daddy’s attempts to get their Momma to notice him (‘ _ You wore her down, Dad. It was a pity dance _ .’), while Kate let out a dreamy sigh, resting her chin on her palms as she watched her parents look at one another like the moon and the stars (‘ _ I think it's romantic,’  _ she had swooned).

The black and red memories were never truly going to go away; Kate knew they were a part of her, marks in her soul and mind like the ones she carried on her wrists. Still, the path to recovery—to self-forgiveness—was to cherish the pastel memories, too (even if it was to keep her parents’ alive as two happy people rather than the tragedies they became).

When Kate found Seth’s side of the bed empty, she sat up, yawning and stretching. She kicked off the sheets and slipped on the unicorn slippers Richie had gotten her to match the tiara Seth had tossed at her after going through their score from the hit they made at a jewelry store in Houston.

“You told them?” Kate accused when she walked into their makeshift kitchen, expecting to make them breakfast (it was her turn, seeing as Richie had his last week) but instead found Seth, Richie, and Scott gathered around the table, a large cake laid out in the center.

Scott grumbled something beneath his breath when Seth put a hand on his sister’s waist, guiding her down to his lap.

“What was that, kid?” Seth asked with a smirk. “I didn't catch that.”

Scott flipped him off before looking at Kate. “ _ You and me _ were supposed to go back to that beach town, the one where we used to go with Mom and Dad, remember? But fucking Norman Bates over here hacked into my laptop and cancelled the rental on the beach house. And he refuses to pay me back for the nonrefundable deposit.”

Richie pulled out a box of candles and a lighter from his pocket as he said, “First of all, what the fuck were  _ you _ going to do at a beach? No sunscreen is strong enough to keep you from burning up like whatever barbecue you had planned, idiot. Secondly, you don't get to take Katie away for her birthday.”

“She's  _ my _ sister, asshole.”

“She's mine, too, Vamp Halen.”

Kate felt a wave of affection stir in her chest. She had thought of Richie as hers—her friend, her partner, her brother—so to hear him acknowledge her the same (even if she had no doubt he considered her his, too) made her genuinely smile.

Seth rubbed a circle on the skin of her thigh his old t-shirt did not cover. Kate knew he was contemplating the same thing—that he was processing how they got here, and what they did to deserve it.

“What poor fucker did you have to kill to make this cake?” Scott asked, taking a sip from the beer he had been drinking since before the sun came out.

“I didn't kill anyone,” Richie said instantly, his blue eyes meeting Kate’s wide gaze. “I promise. Mrs. Peacekeeper baked this. The Ranger brought it over this morning.”

“Freddie was here?”

Richie nodded, saying, “Yeah, but someone was robbing a bank, and seeing as it wasn't us, he had to go. He said he’ll swing by later.”

“Santanico sent you this,” Scott slid a silver package with a sleek, black bow across the wooden table. “My money’s on it being a gun.”

“Her name is Kisa,” Kate corrected, standing from Seth’s lap to reach for the package.

Seth averted his eyes at the sight of his shirt rising higher and higher over her backside.

Catching this, Scott said, “I hope it  _ is _ a fucking gun. I know who we can use as target practice.”

“That's twenty-one candles,” Richie announced, placing the last purple candlestick in the chocolate cake before Kate could open her gift from Kisa.

“Hear that, Seth?” Scott scoffed, eyes narrowing. “She's actually legal now.”

Seth met Scott’s glare with one of his own.

Kate rolled her eyes at them. “I was legal a while back. Besides, age is a state of mind.”

Seth managed to break through his frown to grin up at Kate, a secret shared between the two (or three) as Richie scrunched his nose in disgust at both of them.

“Yeah, sure, Katie,” Richie contributed, “but now you can have a drink with him without risking jail time.”

“I've had a drink with him before,” she said. “In your bar. And in our Mexican honeymoon, remember?”

Seth stood from his chair, impatience on his face just as Scott started demanding to know what exactly happened in Mexico. “That's fucking enough,” his fingers twitched to his gun, like he was on the verge to aim a warning shot in the air (and he wanted to, but Kate had specifically told all three of them that no weapons were to be used during family meals). “Can we just have her blow the damn candles out before we end up eating candle wax with the cake?”

“Hey, Naruto, you know what else she can blow now?”

Scott didn't answer Richie—he threw himself at him, fangs and all, just after Seth got to his brother first, his fist colliding with his nose.

Sighing, Kate blew out her candles.

Her wish: to always have this, Seth, Richie, and Scott, even with all their ridiculous bickering.

They were her home.

They were her family.

 

**X**

 

Kate walked out of the bathroom, a towel around her body, red hair dripping down her back, and a cloud of steam following after her, and found Seth sat at the corner of their bed, his left hand balled in a fist, eyes locked on it.

“We don't have to go,” she said, stopping before him, putting a bare hand on the side of his cheek, running the pad of her thumb on his stubble. “It's just a dumb tradition.”

Seth allowed himself a few seconds of silence, of feeling her soft skin and soft touch before he said, “It's your family tradition, princess.”

“You're my family now,” Kate said. “We can make new traditions. I'm sure Richie and Scott would rather go to a bar or fight some pissed off culebras than go get ice cream sundaes.”

Seth looked down at his closed fist again, jaw clenching. “You mean it, don't you?”

“Hitting something over eating ice cream? Yeah.”

“No, not the fucking...About us being a family. About you...about  _ us _ .”

Kate pulled her hand back, her heart threatening to sink at the bottom of her chest and get lost there.

_ You wanna play in the darkness, little Miss Sunshine? _

_ Get the hell out. _

“Don't you?” she asked, swallowing a knot of her fears.

Seth caught it, caught the cold, deep tone of her voice that reminded them both of the evil bitch that had once possessed her. His open hand reached out to grab her wrist, giving it a light tug.

“My price was you, Kate. Seeing you walk through hell’s gates, that's what I thought my punishment was. You and Richie on the other side, far from me.”

_ Time to pay up. _

_ Time to let go, partner. _

“I would've popped your knees, you know that, right? I'm that fucking selfish. The only thing that stopped me was you finally making a choice for yourself, one that wasn't controlled by that fucking Medusa wannabe. If it happened again... I'm not gonna lose you a third time, you understand me? You can't expect me to make the tough call, not when it comes to you.”

_ Do it, Seth. Please shoot me. Please, I can't take it anymore. _

_ Seth, don't touch her. _

_ You had a gun pointed right at my head and you didn't pull the trigger. _

_ So this is my fault? Because I didn't put a bullet between your eyes? _

Kate took a deep breath, pushing back the reminder of that night. “Don't worry,” she said, “I don't feel self-sacrificing lately.”

Seth frowned at her poor joke. “I mean it, Kate. If the world comes after you, it comes after both of us.”

“Bonnie and Clyde,” she whispered, smiling, reaching to touch his face again.

He took it before it could, pressing a kiss at the underside of her scarred wrist. Then, he brought his left hand over her open palm, dropping a silver necklace in it.

Kate squeezed her hand shut. “I thought the tiara was my birthday present?”

“Doesn't count,” he said, “seeing as I didn't know it was your birthday. Richie is making lists now, by the way. Writing down important dates he thinks we all need to know. He's gonna pass them out next meeting.”

Slowly, Kate opened her hand and nimbly picked up the thin, silver chain.

A dainty cross hung in the middle.

At her silence, Seth said, “I found your necklace at the bloodwell when we...when we went looking for your body—”

“She tore it off,” Kate mumbled. “Right when she woke up, she tore it off and dragged me through the desert until we were admitted in that psych ward.”

Seth flinched along with her at the memory. “I kept it. It's in the safe beneath our bed.”

“I don't... I don't want it back.”

“I know,” he said, closing his hand over hers and the silver necklace. “Look, I'm not exactly a fucking faithful follower, but something happened in that chapel. It could have been the transfusion or Scott’s prayer, but it brought you back. I don't care what it was, I'm just glad it happened.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I know you don't believe in God right now, Kate, but you believe in something. You believe in your mother, I know you do. The same way I believe in you. This,” he squeezed their clasped hands, “is a reminder of that.”

Kate nodded, keeping her silence as she dropped the necklace back in his hand, slowly turning around. She picked up her wet, red hair, encouraging him to put it around her neck.

After he stood and clasped the silver cross necklace, she moved to face him again. When their eyes met in a way that allowed Kate to see the glimmering devotion in his gaze, she rose up on her toes. Before she pressed her mouth on his, she whispered, “I believe in you.”

He met her in the middle, kissing her pink lips as one of his hands stayed on the back of her neck and the other went to her waist.

It was easy for the two of them to get lost in each other, reeling on the feel of their mouths moving together, bodies pressing close, but Seth typically had better control on staying behind a line he was not too sure Kate was ready to cross.

“If you're selfish,” she murmured, moving her lips to his neck, kissing a part she found always made him grip her hips like she was a lifeline and he was on the verge of drowning, “then take all that I have.”

Kate let the towel around her body drop at their feet.

Seth opened his eyes, letting them travel down her smooth, porcelain skin and all it had to offer.

_ I am simply here for what is mine. _

Effortlessly, he picked her up, turning them around so he could place her back on their bed.

Kate knew better than anyone that Seth was not a man that worshiped anything, but on that bed, with his mouth, with his hands, with his tongue, with his teeth, with his soul, and his anatomy, he worshiped her. He showed devotion to every centimeter of her, her name leaving his lips like a prayer (mixing with the way she called out his).

It was when he was inside her, connecting both into one, hearts reaching new levels of rhythm as they both tried to touch a version of heaven meant only for each other, that Seth looked deep in her emerald eyes and said, “I love you.”

It was after, when they were a tangled heap of limbs, her red hair knotted, his essence sticky between her thighs, and scratch marks on his back, his skin sleek with sweat, that she picked up her head from his chest, meeting his dark eyes to say, “I love you, too.”

 

**X**

 

Three years passed by in a blur of guns (their choice of weapon, unless Scott was around), crates of shipment (the job of a Peacekeeper was never done and they helpfully supplied), beer (because completely sober wasn't something most of them did), Fanglorious concerts (much to the Geckos annoyance), hits across Texas and New Mexico (with Freddie constantly deleting any trace of them, a scolding glint in his eye), long drives with Seth to nowhere at all (hot air blowing through Kate’s hair, his eyes on her, their hands clasped together), nights of silence for those that were gone (and the list was so long for all of them), a trip for one to visit Kisa wherever she was in the world watching over her culebras (none of Kate’s boys were ever particularly happy with that), money and jewels (because they weren't always Robin Hood), spontaneous trips to the ocean (Richie and Scott trapped in the beach house until the sun wasn't lethal), bruised knuckles and broken wrists (there was still a lot of anger Kate needed to process), kisses on her scarred wrists (Seth liked to remind her that despite her shadows, she was worth the light), making love underneath soft sheets (because Seth and Kate liked reminding each other they were both worth devotion), experimental cooking sessions with Richie (‘ _ we'll teach each other, just stop eating people to take their skills _ .’), late night visits to a cemetery to visit Jennifer Fuller’s grave (Scott never pushed Kate to go to church), and movie marathons in the warehouse (there was always bickering over the film choice before it was actually played). 

 

**X**

 

“Hello? Kate, are you still there?”

At the sound of Dakota McGraw’s voice entering her eardrum, breaking past her whirlwind thoughts, Kate mumbled, “Yeah. I'm here.”

On the other line of the phone, Dakota sighed. “You've been doing well in our sessions, you know. You've shown progress.”

“I still have nightmares,” Kate mumbled again.

“That's normal—in a completely not normal situation,” Dakota let out an incredulous laugh, like after all this time she couldn't believe what the world actually was. “But you have more soundless sleep than insomnia. You touch more people now, more than just Seth. It's  _ progress _ , Kate. And in life, things change as time passes and that's perfectly—”

Kate jumped when she heard a gunshot. Then another.

Her hand pressed against her stomach, gasping.

_ She's not even supposed to be here! _

_ I hope you burn in hell. _

Kate stood from the edge of her bed, leaning out to look in the bathroom. No one was there. Even though she  _ heard  _ shots and Richie.

“I have to go Dakota,” Kate said, walking over to the dresser, pulling out a gun from her and Seth’s collection in the first drawer. “I'll go to you next time again, okay? Don't come here.”

Before Dakota could question her, Kate pushed the red button on her cellphone, discarding it on the bed before making her way out of the room.

_ Remember what we shared. _

_ Stick to the plan, Stan. _

_ Trust me, Seth is the key. _

Kate walked down corridors, finding them in the clear, undisturbed by the noise she thought was coming from outside her head.

When she entered the warehouse, she found Seth instructing their men on the seven crates of shipment they were taking to a new buyer (so many hunters were coming out, intent to follow Freddie through battle of peace and balance) and she found Richie looking over the blueprints to a new job they had lined up.

Richie clocked in on Kate first, raising a brow at the gun she had out. “Saw a spider again, Katie?”

That was her cue to laugh, to flip him the finger, but instead she said, “Did you...Did you say something before? Think something?”

“I'm always thinking about something,” Richie said, tapping a finger on his right temple, “I'm the brains of this trio, remember?”

She lowered her gun, approaching his worktable. She felt crazy even thinking about it, but Kate had always been able to count on Richie to  _ understand _ her (that was their thing, after all). With a whisper, she said, “I heard you inside my head.”

He smirked at her. “I can't control the thoughts that sprout when you walk around in your underwear, Katie.”

She pinched his arm with her free hand, glaring. He winced, smacking her hand away.

“Okay, fine.  _ Shit _ . What did you hear?”

“Things you've said before,” Kate muttered. “It's not the first time, either. When I was robbing a bank with Danny, I came across a safe. I heard you then. You told me how to open it.”

All amusement was gone from Richie’s face. “This isn't like what me and Santanico have,” he said, ignoring Kate’s correction of  _ her name is Kisa, _ “this is what happens when a culebra drinks from a human. You collect their thoughts. You can tap into them when you need something useful, like a fucking instruction manual.”

Kate’s gun rattled slightly in her grip. “We've shared blood once.”

_ I didn't get to see into your soul. You saw into mine, remember? _

Richie was a lot of things, Kate knew, but a liar was never one of them. He was honest above all else, and even for her sake, he would never give her the sugar-coated version of anything.

Even if Kate wished he would have just this once.

“Amaru saw into my soul,” he said. “That was her gimmick, after all. She pulled things out, seeing every little thing I had to offer and collected them. Since you were her, you collected them, too.”

Richie reached for her hands, settling their shaking, just as Seth walked up to them. He had a grin on his face, laughter still coming past his lips, but when he noticed the tension, he stopped.

With his hand on her back, Seth asked, “What's wrong?”

Richie opened his mouth, about to let the cold, sharp truth out, but Kate cut in. “Nothing,” she said. “I just...I need to talk to you about something. Dakota called and—”

The shaking in her hands stopped as her body went rigid. She sensed intrusion before it happened. She turned from Seth and Richie, raising her gun. When a silhouette appeared to be approaching, Kate shot.

Carlos Madrigal growled, falling to his knees as she continued to deposit her bullets in him.

When those were done, she threw her gun, reaching into Seth’s waistband, pulling out his.

“Stop her,” Carlos hissed at the brothers.

Richie shrugged, leaning against his worktable, and Seth gave Kate his second gun.

When she raised both at him, Carlos yelled, “I'm here with a warning,  _ cabrones _ !”

“Don't really care for what you have to say, Carlito,” Seth informed.

“Some old  _ gringo _ found Amaru’s amulet,” Carlos hissed, pulling himself back up to his feet. The holes in his body started to heal. “Yeah, you're listening now, aren't you?”

Kate shot him on the shoulder. Carlos laughed this time around.

“Get your fucking ragtag group of misfits together,” he said. “We’re going back to hell.”

 

**X**

 

They found the old man and his soldiers who believed they could take control of hell. 

They found the amulet.

They killed the old man and most of his soldiers. Stakes nor venom bullets were required; these were a different type of monster, a type they were all familiar with. Greedy humans.

They destroyed the amulet. A hammer, venom, and fire did the job.

They gathered in the warehouse, battered, bruised, and some with bullet-shaped holes in their body.

But they were all alive.

Barely.

Again.

“We don't get paid enough for this bullshit,” Seth said, kissing the top of Kate’s matted red hair as he made way to take the bottle of whiskey from Scott.

Richie lit a cigarette. “We don't get paid anything for this shit, brother.”

“Should we file a complaint with the boss?” Scott huffed, throwing himself on a chair, his armor made of scales morphing back to skin.

Kisa glared. “There is no money to maintain peace.”

“Yeah?” scoffed Seth. “Did you not see the new truck the Peacekeeper is driving?”

“There are always banks for _los Hermanos Gecko_ to rob,” Carlos said, sewing back a finger to his hand with the only (dullest) needle Richie told him Kate had. “My bad, for _los tres Geckos_.”

“They're the reason I don't keep my money in the bank,” Poncho said, wiping blood off his chin. “You never know if they'll steal from you, too.”

Richie and Seth started to laugh when Kate rose up from her chair, fury in her emerald eyes.

“Where are you—?”

“Is this funny?” she demanded before Seth questioned where she was headed off to. Silence filled the warehouse at the volume of her voice. “I'm just so tired of this!”

Seth furrowed his brows. “Of what?”

“This!” Kate gestured to the warehouse, to all of them. “Of guns and blood and hell—I’m tired of this  _ life _ !”

Seth’s clenched his jaw, a flash of his own dark thoughts in his eyes as he asked, “What the fuck does that mean?”

Kate held her breath for a moment, catching Kisa’s gaze, an all-knowing glimmer in it as she stared back. Kate looked away, throwing her gun on the chair she left empty.

“It means that I'm done,” she said, turning on her heels and walking out of that warehouse.

 

**X**

 

Kate took the open road expecting to end up lost in the middle of nowhere, right where she wanted to be (where she couldn't be found, where people didn't exist), but instead she found herself turning off the ignition of her car in a familiar driveway.

“Is something wrong?” Freddie asked when he opened the door, his rifle in one hand as he looked past her shoulder. “Are you hurt? Is everyone okay?”

“Freddie,” Margaret scolded from behind him, gesturing him aside with her crossbow. “Let her in.”

Kate had no energy to give polite smiles to the hospitality. But once inside, she said, “Everyone is fine, Freddie. The amulet was destroyed. We left nothing behind.”

Freddie grunted, throwing his rifle on the top of a bookcase as Billy came running into the room. She was all squeals and laughter when she saw Kate.

“I should've been there,” he said (to himself, to Kate, to Margaret).

Kate put Billy on her lap, bouncing her knees as the little girl touched the cross around her neck. “You couldn't be, Freddie. Mags needed you here. You know they were searching for anyone who was in that ritual.”

“I could've protected myself,” Margaret said, gesturing to her crossbow. “I had a good teacher.”

After husband and wife shared a fleeting kiss, Freddie said, “Then why are you here?”

Kate swallowed the knot in her throat. There were voices in her head again, but these weren't triggered by Amaru or her sins. This voice was all Kate. It was all the things she had yet to fix.

“How do you do it?” she asked in a murmur, looking up with tears in her emerald eyes. “How do you...how do you have the strength to raise Billy in the middle of this chaos?”

“There’s always going to be chaos,” Freddie said, eyeing her curiously. “We know that by now.”

“We tried the being apart thing,” Margaret chimed in, “thinking it'll keep Billy safe, but it didn't. We aren't strong when we are apart.”

_ When we're alone, we're lost. _

_ Because we're better together. _

 

**X**

 

Kate found Seth exactly where she knew he would be: on a bar stool, nursing his fifth glass of whiskey with Richie on the other side, filling his glass and drinking one of his own.

“Scott went to look for you,” Richie said when she took the seat beside Seth. He dropped a glass in front of her, filling it. “You know, since you fucking left.”

Seth looked up from his glass, his gaze sharp when it looked at her from the side. “Here's a fucking tip, princess: you don't go back to the place you don't want to be.”

Kate let the accusations linger in the air as she slid her untouched glass back at Richie. Her gloved hands were shaking, so she peeled them off to give her fingers something to do.

Finally, when she did find her voice, she said, “I wasn't leaving you.”

“Sure as fuck looked like it to me,” Seth grunted, taking her glass and swinging it back. “Go right on ahead, Kate.  _ Leave _ . You're not our fucking hostage anymore, we won't force you to—”

“I'm pregnant,” Kate said, cutting across his lash out, the way he dealt with his pain. “Dakota called the night Carlos showed up.”

While Seth found himself frozen to the core, Richie said, “That was almost two months ago.”

Kate nodded slowly. “Then more bullshit happened. More guns and more monsters.” She turned to Seth, taking one of her shaking hands to place over his on the counter of the bar. “I was overwhelmed, Seth. I still am. I just... I wanted to know there could be more to our lives than this, than always fighting a war with the supernatural.”

Seth took in a deep breath, but he squeezed her hand back. “You want the house with the white picket fence, Kate? I'll give you that. You want a life by the seaside? I'll give you that, too.”

Tears pooled in Kate’s eyes. “The preacher’s daughter wanted that, Seth, but I'm not her anymore.”

Seth stood, wiping her tears from her face, locking his dark eyes with her beautiful bright ones. “We’re out, then. Out of this fucking life.”

Kate shook her head. “No, Seth. We’re never going to be out. There's always going to be chaos. And that's okay,” she whispered, smiling fleetingly at Richie before standing, pushing herself up on her toes to put her arms around Seth, “Because through all this, we've built a home. And no one gets to have our family.”

Seth rested his forehead on hers, closing his eyes.

“Promise me,” she murmured up to the angle of his jaw. “Promise me no one touches our family.”

“I promise,” Seth told her, his heartbeat loudly echoing in the centimeter of distance between them.

Kate pressed her left hand on the nape of his neck, holding him close before looking at Richie again. “You promise me, too.”

The blue in Richie’s eyes was glimmering in different shades, signaling all the thoughts Kate was sure Seth was having, too.

“Yeah,” he said with a firm nod, “I promise, Katie.”

 

**X**

 

The moon was high across the midnight sky when Kate was pulled away from a dreamless sleep by Seth’s hand on her abdomen. She felt the tremble of his fingers as he moved a little lower, right to where there was the slightest bump.

“I'm fucking terrified,” he said, but before Kate could respond, she figured out he wasn't talking to her. “Sorry. I shouldn't curse around you. It's a habit I picked up from my old man. He was a real son of a....Not a great guy. But that's the thing, neither am I.”

Silence.

Then, “I'm afraid I'm gonna mess you up, kid. Because that's what I do, I break things. It's why I've never had anything good. Not until Kate came around. And,  _ fuck _ ...”

Seth pulled his hand back, roughly standing from the bed.

When Kate heard him pull on his pants with desperation, like he needed to get out of their room before a hurricane hit, she opened her eyes, sitting up.

“Seth?”

“What the fuck are we going to tell the kid when it asks how we met?” he demanded, an anguish she had never seen before reflected in his eyes. “That I put a gun to your head? That I kidnapped you and your family? What about when I realized I loved you? Hiding in Mexico and shooting fucking heroin into my system before I left you, before I got you killed? I'm  _ him _ , Kate! I'm my fucking old man!”

Kate kicked off their tangled sheets, making her way over to him by the door of their bedroom. She grabbed his hand, tugging him away, stopping him from leaving.

“You're not your father,” she told him firmly. “You know redemption, Seth. You know love. You know loyalty and family. You might have broken things, but you also put them back together.”

“I've always known,” he muttered, teeth clenched like every word pained him, “that I didn't deserve to have you, Kate. And I definitely don't deserve this baby.”

“ _ Our _ baby,” Kate said, moving his hand to her abdomen, “will love you just as much as I do, Seth. Maybe even more. You know why? Because you're worthy of our love.”

At the shake of his head, Kate continued, “I'm not undamaged, Seth. Some of the scars my soul has were there long before you came into my life. That's the reason we found each other, because we kept trying to find the balance between dark and light despite everything that threatened to tear us down.”

Seth let out a strangled breath. “I've done some very messed up things in my life. I'll be the first to admit that, but you...you make me want to be better, Kate. I meant what I said, about leaving this life behind. No more jobs and no more bloodsuckers. Just us. The three of us.”

Kate pushed herself up on her toes, kissing his lips before she said, “It's not just us three, Seth. You know that. Our brothers...this is their life. This is ours. We know better than anyone that it catches up with us, no matter how far we run. And I'm not running.”

Seth pressed his hand a little harder against her abdomen. “Life despite the chaos, huh?”

Kate smiled, the moonlight soft against her face. “Isn't that all we really know?”

 

**X**

 

Seth looked at the sword laid out on the table just as Kate said, “Scott?”

Scott reached for the handle of his blade. He raised it and Richie took a step away from the fridge.

While Kate and the others expected Scott to swing the sword at Seth, he slid it back into its leather scabbard, wrinkling his nose as he said, “ _ Gross _ .”

Seth rolled his eyes, Richie smirked, and Kate frowned.

“Not the reaction I was hoping for.”

“Oh, you wanted me dead, princess?” Seth said before taking a sip of his coffee.

Kate frowned at him for a moment before looking back at her brother. “I wanted you to be happy for me, that's all.”

“I am, Kate,” Scott told her. “A baby, that's pretty fucking rad. It's just, you know, the process of how it got there is not something I wanna think about.”

Richie scoffed. “At least _you_ don't have to hear them go at it. You'd be surprised to know your sister is big on profanity during sex and Seth might have invented a new religion by the way he calls out her name.”

Kate left the makeshift kitchen before the first punch was thrown.

 

**X**

 

Poncho didn't ask why Kate had him move her bed to the other end of her bedroom as soon as Seth and Richie left to meet up with Kisa to discuss another pro bono job of rescuing slaves from a culebra master. 

“ _ Estoy afuera, jefa _ ,” he said and she gave him a distracted nod, waiting for him to close the door behind him.

When he did, she moved to the trick floorboard, lifting it to expose the safe hidden beneath.

Kate turned the dial on the safe; when it opened, she moved aside money and jewels and fake passports until she found a small box. A knot formed in her throat as her unsteady fingers pulled a gold cross necklace from inside.

“I heard the baby’s heartbeat yesterday,” she whispered to the empty room, a glimmer of melancholy in her green eyes. “It was so strong, I couldn't hear anything else. Not even Seth whispering in my ear. It was so strong, it made me believe in you again, God.”  

With a deep breath, Kate touched her fingertip on the cross. “For a long time Momma tried to believe in you because of me and Scott. I don't know if she died forsaking her faith, but I know that I did, but I'm here now. It could have been you or Seth’s blood... if I had to choose, I'd say it was his love over yours that saved me.”

Kate closed her hand over the gold necklace and moved it to her rounding belly. She pressed it flat against it, closing her eyes. “But I'm praying now,” she whispered to the empty room again, but this time she felt a warmth of comfort in her chest she had not felt in so long in God's name.

 

**X**

 

Kate was laughing— _ actually _ laughing at Seth’s black eye, Scott’s busted lip, Freddie’s sliced cheek, and Richie’s dislocated shoulder.

“It's not funny, Kate,” Scott grumbled, spitting out blood. “It had to be done.”

“Oh?” she laughed, a hand on her waist as she scanned all four of them. “How'd that work out for all of you, then?”

“I just made a simple suggestion,” Freddie said, glaring at the other three on his left. “It's not my fault these assholes got offended.”

Seth squinted past his swollen eye. “You ripped up our blueprints and undermined my fucking expertise on this goddamn job. Excuse me if I found that a little offensive, Van fucking Helsing.”

Kate turned to Richie. “What's your excuse?”

“Seth was getting his ass handed to him by the Ranger. It's a matter of family honor, Kate.”

“I was not!”

“True, he wasn't,” Kate said, backing up Seth. “He got his ass handed to him by Kisa.  _ All _ of you did.”

Kisa stepped out from behind Kate, mirth in her narrowed dark eyes.

“I'm pregnant,” Kate emphasized this by placing her hands over her rounding belly, “If I wasn't,  _ I _ would've kicked all of your asses. None of you get to speak for me, all right? I don't care if you're my brother, my boyfriend, my best friend, or my father-figure type.”

Freddie stood taller, the brood he carried with him like second skin resurfaced. “It's exactly because you're pregnant that we don't think you should be on this job, Kate. If Seth had any fucking sense—”

“Do you think I want her on this?” Seth growled, taking an aggressive stride toward Freddie. “She's carrying our child! I want her locked up in a fucking padded room and an army outside her door, but we all fucking know the princess does as she pleases.”

Kate grinned for a moment (because they all knew by now that she was the first to accept a job), then she sighed. “I'll take my maternity leave after this one, okay?”

They all turned to her.

“Not because you are all throwing tantrums,” Kate rolled her eyes at their offended expressions, “but because this baby is weighing me down. I'm my own planet now.”

Seth softened his features. “You're not, Kate.”

“Ah, classic male ego,” Richie said, elbowing Scott in the ribs. “That's what pride of fertilization looks like.”

“One more job,” Kate cut across any new bickering that was starting from Richie’s comment. “Now clean up this mess. Poncho and the guys are not going to do it for you.”

Grumbling, they moved, picking up broken crates and overturned hauls (only occasionally shoving one another).

“You own them,” Kisa said to Kate, a sharp smile now on her red lips. “You’re the only girl who can get these  _ machos pendejos _ to do what they need to.”

Kate caressed her belly, smiling now, too. “I won’t be for long.”

 

**X**

 

Leather gloves had not been the only barrier Kate put between her and other people to keep them from a harm the terrified and damaged parts of her brain told her she could still inflict; she had also developed the compulsion to do everything herself. If she did everything, then  _ she  _ was in control and no one else. Yet, carrying and growing another human being exhausted Kate out more than she liked to admit (and she  _ never  _ admitted to it).

Her belly grew, covering her feet from her own view, but she continued trying to review shipment crate by crate, getting winded between waddles to each, and plan out jobs for Seth and Richie, even though she had to pee every five minutes between ideas.

“Come on, princess,” Seth would tell her, “Give it a rest, will you?”

“Rest is for the weak,” Kate would then say to him. “I’m  _ fine _ .”

Because they all knew she was struggling to get to place to place, everyone started doing little things they assumed would go unnoticed by her (but nothing went unnoticed by Kate).

It started with Seth.

He brought her breakfast to bed one morning, a rose tucked behind his ear before he handed it to her, a kiss on her lips. When Kate looked at him suspiciously, Seth had simply said,  _ ‘Eat your damn food, Kate’. _ She laughed, digging into her small tower of pancakes as he settled in beside her, three-piece suit and all, and stole from her plate like the thief he was.

That morning of breakfast in bed turned to another, then another (anything to keep her in bed a little while longer).

It then continued with Scott.

He started visiting more frequently, staying longer periods of time than he usually did. When Kate asked why he wasn’t touring with his bandmates, Scott had just shrugged, telling her how  _ ‘Being on the road gets kinda boring, you know?’ _

That week visit turned to two, three, then a month (anything to keep her from driving out to meet him when they had settled on taking turns).

It then ended with Richie.

He had dropped a stack of books on her desk, throwing off her paperwork so he could open a thick book to the folded page he had left up on. When Kate looked at him with confusion, Richie frowned at her, saying,  _ ‘Do you know how many corners a baby can take out an eye in?’ _

Though Kate had always known Richie was neurotic ( _ ‘I’m  _ prepared _ , not neurotic, Katie.’ _ ) about anything that took up his interest, she had not counted on him entering her and Seth’s bedroom one morning, interrupting their breakfast.

“Get up.”

“What’d I tell you about fucking knocking, Richard?” Seth had grunted.

“Super hearing,” Richie had said, giving his earlobe a tug. “I would’ve heard you two banging away.”

Seth glared. “Where the fuck was that super hearing last time?”

Sighing, Kate put her fork down. “What did you need, Richie?”

“For you two to get up,” he said impatiently. “I gotta show you something. It’s important.”

“No—”

“ _ Seth _ ,” Kate groaned at his immediate interjection. “Important is important.”

“We’re having breakfast—”

Kate handed him her tray, grinning. “Nope. All done.”

Unfortunately, Seth had left his gun on top of the dresser beside the door, so he had to settle on glaring at Richie.

Kate threw her legs over the edge, trying to get up. At her squirming, Richie offered a hand, yanking her up.

In the backseat of their sleek, black Mustang, Kate was caught between sleep and reality when they pulled up to a large house sitting in a large acreage.

“Richard,” Seth sighed from the driver’s seat, “if you fucking brought  _ Kate  _ here to shake up some asshole that owes us money, I swear to fucking Christ that I will personally string you up and wait for the sun to come up.”

“First of all,” Richie grunted, “no one owes us money. We’re fucking Geckos. They know better. Now get outta the car before I remember I haven’t had breakfast, you feedbag.”

When they walked up to the front porch of the house, the old floorboards creaking under their weight, Richie pulled a silver key out of his pocket. He offered it to Kate.

With a brow raised, she stuck the key in, twisting it. Richie opened the door, allowing muted light from inside to pour out, silence and the smell of pine trees welcoming them. Kate and Seth looked at him as he gestured for them to enter.

“Push present,” Richie said when Kate ran a hand on old floral wallpaper lining the hall as they made their way further in.

“A what?” Seth asked, a frown still on his face.

“Push present,” Richie repeated. “It’s a gift for giving birth. Typically the father gives the push present, but I figured I don’t give a fuck what Seth thinks.”

Kate turned, taking in what the old house had to offer. “Richie,” she breathed, “You bought us a house?”

“I bought  _ you  _ a house. You and Seth and the baby,” he said.

Kate frowned now, both she and Seth looking at Richie with hard eyes.

 

Richie smiled at their reaction. “Look, Katie,” he begun, “I knew from the moment I saw you there was something real special about you. I know you lost sight of it for a while, but that something special is your heart. Seth and me, we’re terrible fucking people, but you saw past that. You didn’t see what everyone else saw and tried to turn us against each other. You loved us because of who we are.”

 

_ True love is loving the unlovable.  _

Tears glimmered in Kate’s eyes. “You’re my family, Richie.”

“I know,” he told her, his tone soft as always when he spoke to her, “because you gave us that. My brother...he’s given up a lot for me, so I think it’s time I let you two have something for yourselves. I know this life is fucked up, and we’re always going to get yanked back in, but you deserve a shot at normal. This is it. A home. For the three of you.”

“Richie,” Seth muttered, taking a step closer to his brother. “Listen, buddy, this is real fucking great, but...”

“But we’re partners,” Richie finished. “Yeah, we are. And will be.”

Kate reached for Richie’s hand, clasping it hard just as she intertwined her fingers with Seth’s. She turned bright, loving eyes at both of them. “ _ Los tres Geckos. _ ”

“Four,” Seth said, his free hand gracing Kate’s belly.

 

**X**

 

It took thirteen hours of sweat, blood, and tears to bring their baby into the world. 

Kate’s water had broken when she and Scott were in the new house, setting up the kitchen for a Saturday night family dinner as Seth and Richie made their way back from the warehouse. She had been mashing potatoes when a sharp pain shot across her abdomen. She rubbed her hand on the tip, soothing the little human in there, but then the pain doubled and she was screaming.

The screaming didn’t stop.

Kate heard her own ringing in her ears, but then she heard Seth’s.

It took one busted lip, two broken noses, three black eyes, one Dr. McGraw, and one Ranger Gonzalez for hospital staff to let Seth inside her room.

“I can’t,” Kate cried, squeezing his hand as tears streamed down her face. “I can’t, Seth. It _hurts_. It hurts so much.”

“Hey, listen to me, princess,” Seth said, wiping sweat and red hair from her forehead, his dark eyes looking deep into her green ones. “You can do anything. You’re strong. You’re so fucking strong, Kate. Stronger than any of us. You _can_ do this. Come on, baby. One more push.”

The next cry came from their baby.

Then from Seth.

The closest to tears Kate had ever seen glimmer in Seth’s eyes was when she was standing by hell’s gates, fully intent and prepared to walk in and leave him behind. Now they glittered, turning his brown eyes into gold when Dakota placed a bundle wrapped in a pink blanket on Kate’s chest.

Seth looked at their baby the way he looked at Kate—like she was the sun, the moon, the stars, and the entire universe caught in the shell of one person.

Kate thought she must look the same because she looked at Seth exactly the same way.

“She’s beautiful,” he whispered, his hands shaking as he moved fingertips across their baby’s cheek.

“ _ Es perfecta _ ,” said Kisa, walking in with the others.

They all crowded Kate’s bed, leaning in to better see the new addition to their ragtag family.

“She’s got your nose, Katie-Cakes,” Scott muttered to his sister, his face in awe. “She’s got Mom’s nose.”

“She’s got your eyes, brother,” Richie said, clapping him hard on the back. “Gecko eyes.”

“Yeah,” Seth breathed, carefully tracing a finger on the baby’s fair hair, “and it looks like she’ll have your blonde locks.”

“Have you chosen a name, then?” Scott asked, gently touching his niece’s chin. “I still think mine’s the best, by the way.”

Richie snorted.

Kate and Seth turned to each other. Throughout her pregnancy, they had only proposed ridiculous names as an ongoing joke to Richie’s suggestion of  _ Etta,  _ the partner-in-crime to the infamous Butch Cassidy and Sundance Kid, and Scott’s suggestion of  _ Axl Rose _ , the lead vocalist of Guns N’ Roses ( _ ‘don’t laugh, it’s unisex!’ _ ).

“Her name’s Ximena,” Kate said, pressing a feathering kiss on her baby’s head. “A tribute to a warrior.”

Freddie swallowed, eyes glimmering, but said nothing. He just gave Seth and Kate a nod that said everything they needed to know.

 

**X**

 

Later, when the room had cleared, and Seth sat beside Kate, both of them watching their baby sleep peacefully over her mother’s heart, he said, “I got something for her.”

Kate looked up at him, finding his left hand extended out. On his palm rested a golden necklace she thought she had left locked in their safe.

“Family heirloom,” he said. “One that wasn’t stolen.”

“Are you saying mine was?” she asked with a soft laugh, fingering her silver cross.

“I’m a bastard, Kate, but I’m not a  _ fucking  _ bastard.”

“No cursing in front of Ximena,” scolded Kate.

“Good job, princess. Sounding like a mom already.”

Kate rolled her eyes, but still laughed. It was when silence stretched for a long minute that she looked back up at Seth, finding his attention on her. That look was in his eyes again, the one that made her feel like everything in life had led them to this moment— _ to each other _ .

“Got you a push present,” Seth said, his thumb tracing her lip for a moment. “I bought this one, too.”

“I already got a house,” she told him with a grin before kissing the pad of his thumb.

Seth scoffed, reaching into his pocket. Again, he extended his left hand out. This time, there was a diamond ring on his palm.


End file.
